


In love with every stranger, the stranger the better

by Menatiera



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Avenger Bucky Barnes, Avenger Loki (Marvel), Casual Sex, Daddy Issues, Eventual Happy Ending, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Identity Porn, Idiots in Love, M/M, Moral Ambiguity, Moral Dilemmas, Multi, Mutual Pining, One Night Stands, POV Loki (Marvel), POV Multiple, POV Steve Rogers, POV Tony Stark, Polyamory, Post-Avengers (2012), Reluctant Avenger Loki, Secret Identity, Self-Worth Issues, Shapeshifted sex, after lots of mental angsting, and inner monologues, bucky is so done with everyone, comics and movies fusion, how can i love more than one person at a time- the dilemma, i think it's not but please be warned, is it a consent issue if it's shapeshifting?, oblivious idiots in love, problematic sex, redeemed Loki Laufeyson, that is not casual for real, that won't remain one night stands, the participants are consenting but the original is not aware?, warning: maybe dub-con?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-17
Updated: 2020-02-20
Packaged: 2021-02-08 03:26:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 37,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21469294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Menatiera/pseuds/Menatiera
Summary: "It was wrong, what Loki offered. Morally wrong, for starters. How could Steve agree to fuck a shapeshifted Loki without Iron Man’s knowledge about the whole ordeal?"---A story about how two Midgardian figured out that loving more than one people at a time might not be as disastrous as they had thought, and about a trickster god who realized that maybe he could get what he yearned for without deceiving anyone - himself included. But there's some awkwardness in their way at first. Including: oblivious mutual pining, long-suffering best friends, tons of doubts of self-worth, sneering, smirking, and punching Doombots.This a fusion-kind alternate universe. I based it mostly on the Avengers movie, and what could happened after, but it has elements from the comics (like Iron Man's identity being secret), cartoons (like Avengers Assemble) and fanon (Loki being redeemed and part of the Avengers team). You'll see while you read - the necessary information will be revealed in the story, don't worry.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Loki, James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes & Tony Stark, Loki/Steve Rogers, Loki/Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, Loki/Tony Stark, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 101
Kudos: 131
Collections: Marvel Trumps Hate 2018





	1. Loki

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SoldiersShield](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoldiersShield/gifts).

> So this is a _very late_ fill for the 2018 MTH auction for my lovely winner FortellerBryn, known as [SoldiersShield](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForetellerBryn) here on Ao3, who wanted a Frostironshield story. Sorry it took me so long, but I hope the more than expected wordcount will make up a bit for it.
> 
> Title is from Hozier. Because of course. Thanks for [Winnie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cpt_winniethepooh) to find the perfect quote for me!
> 
> Huge, HUGE thanks to my lovely betas, [Faustess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Faustess)and [Loran](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loran_Arameri), who are amazing of all sorts. All the remaining mistakes are mine, they've done wonders both to my grammar and to the pacing of this fic.

Loki was famous for his ideas.

Of course, it was only partly because they were good ideas. Oftentimes they were, naturally. He had more wit and cunning than most of those Aesir buffoons who relied too much on their strength and therefore failed to sharpen their minds. Loki was proud of his schemes, of his ability to see through complicated plans and to double-cross anyone, even the mighty Odin if he so pleased.

But he was, admittedly, also a fool. It kind of came with being the God of Mischief, as mischief was hard to contain and even harder to tame, and sometimes Loki didn't care to do so, giving in to the urges and going along with his fickle ideas.

Admittedly, some of his finest pranks came as sudden ideas, but also some of his stupidest, most impulsive bad moves did. Those landed him in situations that were a pain in the ass, and of course he had to deal with those too.

Eyeing the fine Captain and finding him attractive was  _ not  _ a sudden impulse but actually approaching him with an offer definitely  _ was _ .

Since Loki had landed among the Avengers, he had been studying Steve Rogers. (And wasn't that funny, to become part of a team that had fought against him - Loki loved the irony ofthat.) At first it wasn't even interest, just a tactic - Rogers was the leader, after all, therefore Loki needed to keep an eye on him.

It was out of habit, too - maybe even a bit of nostalgia. He could remember the times when Thor’s little gang of so-called friends had terrorized Asgard together.

But then the reasons have changed. 

Slowly and steadily at first; irrevocably and like freefall afterwards. Loki loved mocking the Captain, loved to make fun of his ideals, of his moral high ground. Loki couldn’t resist the temptation to take his shape or even just his voice and repeat his commanding tone, but this not only allowed Loki to entertain himself, but also to get a deeper understanding of the man.

See, Loki was able to change his form while remaining the same, but he also had to grasp the essence of the person he was shifting into. He tapped into the source and got the hang of it, so he could copy it properly, and that’s how he made his copies so lifelike, so true to the original – because while Loki was always Loki himself (themself to be more accurate, but it was easier to address themself as male while on Earth), he was also many things at once.

And because of this, because of taking the form of the Captain, because of borrowing his shape so often, he started to understand him on a deeper level than he ever thought possible. He got glimpses of a female voice floating in the Captain’s head, reminding over and over to stand up, always stand up after being beaten.  _ (Mom?) _ Loki remembered the warmth of a palm pulling them to their feet, and a friendly clap on the back.  _ (Even when I had nothing…)  _ Loki recognized the desperation eating itself into the soul, the craving of acceptance and the need to prove themselves to the whole world. Loki was familiar with the desire to be loved, to be looked upon for their own worth.

Loki never had thought to find a kindred spirit in the Captain, but he did, without the Captain being aware of it, and as Loki grew more and more fond of Steve Rogers, the man behind the posture and leader, he grew more exasperated too. 

Because Loki knew that he had no chance to win the Captain’s trust, to be more than a necessary ally to him. Steve Rogers accepted the God of Mischief as part of his team because he had to, because Loki was a valuable asset on the field and Rogers needed everyone to keep that fragile blue planet as safe as possible. Rogers would never put his personal dislike of anyone over his duty to protect others.

Loki knew that Rogers was wary of him, and didn’t trust him off of the field (sometimes not even there, but that was a whole different problem). He was also aware that Rogers’ attention was on someone else entirely.

And there were many things that could be said about Loki, many crimes he had committed, but he would never force himself onto anyone. Why would he? There were plenty of people of all genders and races and orientations who would be honored to just look at him, let alone spend time with him – or share his bed.

So Loki wasn’t about to bother the Captain about himself.

Only.

There was something else, and he didn’t need to be a shapeshifter to notice  _ that _ , and the larger problem it posed. Namely, the Captain’s inability to handle his crush on their teammate, Iron Man,  _ and _ on their sponsor, Tony Stark. None of that attraction would be a problem on its own, and not even combined, except that Rogers was agonizing over it. Seriously, it was  _ ridiculous _ how much of a problem it appeared to be – similarly to their stupid approach on gender, it seemed that the mortals had a problem wrapping their head around the fact that  _ it was possible to love more than one person at once _ , which was… disturbing for Loki, to say the least.

The mortals were so  _ stupid _ .

Why  _ wouldn’t _ people love more than one at the time? There were different kinds of love, and not always could those all be fulfilled by a single person. They understood the difference between familial and friendly and romantic love (most of the time, at least), but they kind of forgot about all the other types.

Loki played with the idea of enlightening them, if for no other reason than to show them how superior he was compared to the short-lived creatures of Midgard, but then abandoned the idea. He never had been a teacher type, and most of the Avengers weren’t ideal students either, with their egos in the way. Loki wasn’t friends with them – well, save from Barnes, who was probably the most interesting one among them, and with whom Loki seemed to have a shared ground as former villains. (And former brainwashed people. Nevermind that.) Plus, it would’ve been awkward to answer if someone asked where the urge to teach them came from.

Loki would die first rather than admitting that he was falling for Rogers. It had no relevance whatsoever anyway, since it was absolutely one-sided. (Which was the Captain’s loss, really, because Loki was  _ clearly _ the best partner he was ever likely to get.)

But maybe he could take a different, more direct approach to the problem. Well, at least he could help the Captain to sort that crush out; that would also be beneficial for everyone, Loki included. (Which was the point. He wasn’t a charity organization to do stuff for others. He  _ really _ wasn’t. He liked being the selfish asshole of the group.)

The plan formed slowly in his head, as he watched both Captain America and Iron Man more and more. They were an interesting pair, those two - Loki didn't understand why they didn't just admit their feelings to each other and get on with it, but their lack of daring came handy for Loki now. They were... almost cute, so to say - the way a lap dog wriggling its tail for attention was also cute. They were both attractive, with sturdy moral codes and strong spirits and souls too mellow for this world to be true.

Loki gave himself plenty of time to mull his idea over, but it seemed foolproof. The worst case scenario, which was also the most likely, was that Rogers would reject his offer – which would be, again, his loss. The best case scenario? Fun times ahead with additional bonuses. There was no way Loki would come out of this without winning.

***

Loki was tactful enough to wait until he could talk to Rogers alone. This happened in the corridor leading to Rogers’ room, where he managed to corner the Captain. “We need to talk,” he simply said, knowing that this would be straightforward enough for mortal monkey brains to process.

Maybe he was wrong, though, because Rogers visibly tensed up, like he was bracing himself for a fight. “About what?” Even his tone was defensive.

Loki sighed. “Oh come on, I really just want to talk. I’d like to make you an offer.”

“You never  _ just  _ do anything, Loki,” Rogers reminded, and oh well, maybe that was fair so Loki grinned. “Spit it out,” the Captain commanded.

“I’m sure you’ll like the idea of this,” Loki started, leaning to the wall. “You know I can shapeshift, and I know you have a crush on him. So I could shapeshift into Iron Man, and let you have sex with him,” he offered, phrasing as simply as he could to avoid all possible misunderstandings. “It’d remain solely between us, of course.” It was simply sex, nothing noteworthy about it – an outlet to help the Captain relax, both his body and his mind. Loki wasn’t a whore to offer  _ himself _ , neither someone to play with on all the spectrum that humans referred to as kinky. Though admitted, he’d enjoy having sex, even kinky sex, with the Captain – come on, who wouldn’t? Rogers was a goddamn masterpiece of a human body, and while his personality wasn’t exactly charming, he had, as Loki had to reluctantly admit, a good heart and a good soul. Something that was close to a miracle knowing how much of Rogers’ time was spent in war. Loki had seen what that did to Aesir souls, and the fact that Rogers was able to stave off that fate was amazing.

Of course,  _ this _ wasn’t the moment to dwell on that topic; especially not as Rogers was gaping at him like a fish out of water, eyes bulging out of his skull, mouth hanging open and thoughts nearly screaming into Loki’s ears with the confusion Rogers was experiencing. Loki immediately knew that this conversation wouldn’t have the desired outcome.

“Wh—How—Whe—Why on Earth would you do that?!” the Captain finally sputtered out.

He could’ve explained, of course. But seeing how shocked the Captain was, frozen like a deer in headlights, his breathing uneven and his mind confused and roaring, Loki decided against it. He shrugged instead. “I have my reasons, like always.”

The Captain’s eyes narrowed as he watched him with new suspicion and new interest. Loki sensed that he was considering the offer – well, maybe not considering, but Rogers couldn’t steer his thoughts from wandering to that direction of imagining how would it be if he accepted.

“Yeah, I’m sure of that,” Rogers said, in his most unimpressed tone, that always made Loki’s hair stand on end and kickstarted his need to mock the man and his righteousness. He suppressed the urge this time, but couldn’t suppress the vicious impulse to put the mortal in his place somehow as Rogers continued, “I wanna know those reasons before I answer anything.”

Loki sneered, “for starters, you are so distracted in the field watching Iron Man’s ass and trying to figure out how it looks out of the armor that it distracts even  _ me _ . I do not want to get hurt just because our mighty leader is too horny to pay attention.”

This also wasn’t untrue, and with the supersoldier serum amplifying everything, Rogers’ thoughts tended to be loud; louder than most peoples’. Loki wasn’t going to explain that, nor his ability to read others around him if their minds were not shielded through disciplined training. It was still easier to hint at that, though, than to admit he might have a crush on the good Captain as well.

He wasn’t planning on making an idiot of himself, after all.

Rogers looked positively uncomfortable and generally mortified. “Get out of my hair, Loki,” he said – not rude, not harsh, more resigned instead.

“Think about it, it was a genuine offer,” Loki said, because he couldn’t help himself – it was in his nature to tease the ones around him, and a little uncomfortableness just soothed Loki’s troublemaking urges.

“Get out,” Rogers gritted out, and pointed to the elevator.

Loki smirked at him one more time, then turned around and walked away.

He was a bit disappointed, yeah, since it didn’t go well. Basically, he had been right about the worst case scenario, but while he didn’t gain anything, he didn’t lose anything either, and Loki was alright with that too. Plus, now the idea of this was in Rogers’ head.

And ideas were very dangerous seeds, always threatening to bloom.

***

It took almost two weeks.

There was a knock on Loki’s door, and he opened it without moving from his bed. He only lowered his book at first, but stood up when he saw Captain Rogers standing there, straight and rigid as a statue, hands clinging to his belt. He swallowed nervously, but looked Loki in the eyes. “If your offer still stands, Trickster God?”

Loki smirked, marking his page and tossing the book aside completely, before he stalked forward, watching as Rogers’ nervousness grew with each step he took without a verbal answer.

Loki stood next to the door, and opened it up wider. “Come on in, Captain.”

The tension flew out from Rogers’ posture as he stumbled inside, and Loki clicked the door closed behind him.


	2. Steve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve deals with the aftermath of the conversation with Loki, has his own introspection, and decides to accept the offer.
> 
> Smutty times happen.
> 
> CW: this chapter contains shapeshifted sex. See end notes.

Reluctantly, Steve had to admit that Loki was right.

He didn’t want to, at first, but the Asgardian had found the crack in his armor, figuratively, when he had criticized Steve’s team-leading ability. No matter where that criticism came from, Steve felt obliged to investigate it further. 

He had gotten the chance when only two days later, they were called to assemble to put \pressure on Doctor Doom to stop invading the neighboring countries with his Doombots. It wasn’t a big fight, at least by Avengers’ standards, but it was a delicate situation because they had to be careful not to take even a step over the Latverian border and therefore offend the megalomaniac on the other side. (Politics were such bullshit sometimes, but Steve had to work with what he got.)

And Loki was right. Steve got… distracted. 

By Iron Man. 

By how beautifully he fought. By how gracefully he flew. By looking out for him just a bit more than most of his teammates. He could rationalize it, of course. Iron Man, though he was protected by a suit of armor, was most likely an unenhanced man. As opposed to Thor or Loki, who could get hit by a truck and walk away unharmed, or Bucky, who would get hurt but would be on his feet soon again, Iron Man could be killed way too easily for Steve to be calm.

But by that logic, he should’ve watched Hawkeye or Falcon or (maybe, probably) even Black Widow just as intensely.

Of course, Hawkeye and Widow were both highly trained agents with decades of field work under their belts, and Falcon was former military, which again  _ probably _ wasn’t the case with Iron Man.

He didn’t know Iron Man’s background nearly as much as he knew the others’, so it was reasonable he worried more for him. And yet the reason Steve watched out was way less professional than that.

He didn’t want Iron Man to get hurt.

He didn’t want Iron Man to fight alone.

He wanted to be at Iron Man’s side; he wanted to watch him, admire him, help him, or be helped by him. He wanted to enjoy the easy synchronicity, so similar to the one he shared with Bucky, yet different because of their different origins.

And when Iron Man had to grab Steve’s uniform and yank him away from the border before being pummeled through it, because Steve had been a tad distracted by the way Iron Man’s hips were swinging while dodging some Doombots… yeah.

Steve had to admit that Loki was right, and it was a problem.

*

Steve was still wearing the European mud on his face when he stepped out of debrief, glaring back at Fury after a tiring discourse about nearly disrespecting the current diplomatic arrangement with Latveria, when someone ran into him. Catching the person on autopilot, Steve came face to face with Tony.

“Uh, s’ry Captain,” Tony mumbled, and there was a fresh bruise starting to form on his face. Steve frowned, his stomach clenching and his blood roaring with anger. How  _ dare _ anyone hurt this genius man?! His grip tightened on Tony’s arm. “Uh…”

“Who did this?” Steve demanded, straightening his back.

“Captain, please,” Tony said, pained, and Steve let go immediately, his face heating up with a blush of shame. 

“I’m sorry, Mr. Stark.”

“Yeah, ‘s okay. And it’s nothing. I can’t watch my steps today, it seems,” he smiled up at Steve, clearly exhausted, stifling a yawn. “Long night at work, yada yada. Ran into something while you guys were out there.”

Steve pressed his lips together in a tight line. “I’m sorry, Mr. Stark.”

The smile didn’t disappear, and though it was a small and delicate expression on Tony’s face, still Steve felt his insides warming up. Simply being in the presence of their sponsor sometimes felt like a pure blessing - even on occasions like this when Tony wasn’t saying or doing anything special. 

“What for? It’s not like you punched me or something. And you know what people say on the internet nowadays, Captain America could punch me and I’d thank him,” his smile turned into a grin. Steve didn’t know, and he wasn’t sure it was a good thing at all, but it was impossible not to smile back at Tony Stark.

“I’d never do that. And I’m sorry you got hurt while you let me borrow Iron Man.”

Tony waved it away. “It’s not a bodyguard’s job to stop me from tripping over my own feet, and he does more good under your command than he’d do next to me. I’m happy he can be part of the Avengers; it’s an honor to him I’m sure.” Tony was already walking away. “I need sleep. Or coffee. Probably coffee, though.”

“Well, please tell him he fought well today when you see him next,” Steve called after the man’s back, and a sappy smile was still on his face while he also turned around to retreat to the mansion and to his room. He wasn’t sure who the smile was for - Tony Stark or Iron Man, or maybe both.

*

He had tried to ask Bucky about what Loki had implied and what Steve’s own self-observation on the matter brought to the surface - of course without mentioning Loki whatsoever.

Bucky held the punching bag with trembling arms as Steve pummeled it with full force, and looked at Steve like he was crazy.

“You just figured out  _ now _ that you have a crush on Iron Man?” Bucky asked, incredulous, and swiftly stepped away from the bag the moment Steve swung at it, so Steve nearly face-planted on the gym floor. “Jesus fuck, pal, I swear you’re an even bigger idiot than usual.”

Steve had to laugh at that, because Bucky was able to deliver insults with such fondness that it made Steve happy to be called an idiot, and because this was purely the Bucky he grew up alongside. With his past as the Winter Soldier to burden him, moments like these were rare and precious gifts.

“What do you mean?” Steve finally asked when he regained his balance, just in time to duck Bucky’s hit on his shoulder. They both grinned as they tried to reach each other, light on their feet and quick in their jabs.

“Steve, I’m sorry to break it to you, but you ain’t subtle. Your only luck is that Iron Man is seemingly the only person on this Earth even more oblivious than you are.” He paused for a moment, and Steve used the opportunity to get ahold of his wrist and yank it forward. Bucky came with the momentum and landed a hit on Steve’s solar plexus because of the proximity, then twisted his wrist out of the weakened grip while Steve gasped for air. “Though admittedly, it’s harder to say in his case with the suit and the voice modulators and all,” Bucky added, starting to also breathe harder with the activity.

Steve didn’t answer, and the sparring got serious enough to require all of their attention.

*

Steve kept thinking about it. He couldn’t let his emotions get into their daily job. If Steve wasn’t able to pay attention properly, people might get hurt. So he either needed to figure out his crush on Iron Man, in any way possible, or step down from being the leader of the team.

The latter was unimaginable. Steve had nothing else to do - the Avengers were his purpose in life, they were his family, and everything he felt comfortable with. The 21st century wasn’t a bad place to live, quite the opposite, but he didn’t have much else here than this ragtag group of amazing people.

So he had to go with the first option. Somehow. But how did one get rid of a crush? Not to mention… that Iron Man was only  _ half _ of his problems, precisely the reason why it was impossible to make a move on him.

It wouldn’t be fair of Steve to make a move on anyone without being able to give his whole heart to that special person, and he couldn’t.

Not with Tony Stark also around.

Steve was  _ so screwed. _

*

It was wrong, what Loki offered. Morally wrong, for starters. How could Steve agree to fuck a shapeshifted Loki without Iron Man’s knowledge about the whole ordeal? 

Though, there was a chance that Iron Man wouldn’t mind, would even be flattered. After all, when the Avengers sex dolls were brought up in conversation (because of course they were), Iron Man was the most chill about them. He sounded even proud of them, said he would be curious if they had a visible face or not under the faceplate, if companies produced ones with helmets that opened up, and that he’d love to see how people imagined him. Or could they be customized? After all, Iron Man could be anyone, could look the way the customer preferred, he had argued. He even joked that he’d ask Mr. Stark to buy one for him.

Would Loki’s offer count as one of those Iron Man sexdolls? To Iron Man, at least? But the conversation wasn’t about teammates using those dolls. Steve didn’t know what the Avengers would say if word got out that one of the members had another one’s sex doll. And Loki promised discretion, of course, but could Steve even trust Loki’s promises? He fought side by side with the Asgardian, because having Loki on their side was way better than having him oppose them, and it seemed that being an Avenger kept him entertained enough to not give in to his villainous urges. Thor warned Steve in the beginning several times that keeping Loki occupied was a key factor in keeping him on the good guys’ side, because boredom usually made him plan and execute some of his trickier schemes. Iron Man said it was like a video game with Loki: when the main plot didn’t give enough excitement, they have to send Loki on side quests - and Steve did exactly that.

Steve usually asked Iron Man’s opinion when in doubt, but,  _ obviously _ , he couldn’t do that now. He had a good friendship with Iron Man, but not the kind that would bear it if he just walked up to the other, clasped him on the shoulder and popped the question if he’d mind Steve fucking his feelings out with a live Iron Man replacement. (Even imagining that scene made his face burn.)

It… might be okay to do it, from Iron Man’s side. 

But what about Loki? Was it okay to do that to Loki?

Of course, Loki had offered it. And he was an alien, with a different and way more loose morality than Steve. Loki allowed himself a lot more than this, and let others get away with a lot more, too. So it wasn’t… violating Loki. Between them, it would be consensual, even with the whole shapeshifting deal. They would both know what they were getting into.

Well. Would Steve really know?

He had a feeling, since he did not want to give up the Avengers, that he’d find out.

*

He stepped inside at Loki’s invitation, heart pounding. He wasn’t sure if he was more excited, afraid, or aroused - probably all three at once.

“You’ve made up your mind, dear Captain?” Loki purred, right behind Steve, leaning close enough that the breath tickled Steve’s ear, and he jumped a little.

Loki smiled when he turned around. 

“Maybe,” Steve said, and he sounded awkwardly defensive. He was about to accept a sexual offer, yet he felt like walking into a lion’s den. And he was horrifyingly excited to do so. “But I need some rules.”

“Certainly… Steve.”

His whole body shivered. His first name sounded so obscene from Loki’s mouth, like it was a dirty little secret between them already, like it was moaned in the middle of utter pleasure despite them both being clothed and just staring at each other.

Steve took a deep breath. If Loki wanted to turn this into a challenge, Steve wasn’t one to back away.

“This is between us. Private. I don’t mind if someone hears that we… had sex. I won’t advertise, but I won’t exactly hide it either, and I won’t be ashamed of it. But the details are not for anyone else. No one’s business what kinks or perversions or anything else we were up to behind closed door. Can you accept that?”

Loki nodded, not protesting the slightest, and he seemed more serious than usual, some of the mischief disappearing from his eyes. “I might not be someone you respect, Captain, but I have my own moral code. This is a fair and acceptable condition that I agree with.”

“Good. Second thing. What happens in the bedroom, doesn’t affect anything outside of it. I won’t treat you differently on the field; you won’t get away with anything just because of this. Not even if you threaten me with breaking the first point. And thirdly. This will happen only if you swear that you tell me if I do something you don’t like, and if you are sure that it’s pleasurable for you as well.”

And that lit up Loki’s eyes with the usual mirth, like he was always quietly laughing at Steve. “Do I strike you as someone who’d let you do anything against my will, Rogers?”

Steve shrugged, a little sheepishly. “Guess not, but I still wanted to make sure. This is consensual on both sides. Right?”

Instead of answering verbally, there was a flash of green light running through Loki’s form. Where it touched him, it transformed him: the usual green and black clothes were gone in favor of sleek red and gold armor, and within a few seconds, by all appearance it was Iron Man who stood in front of Steve, with all his modern, technological glory. Steve swallowed, mouth going dry as it sunk in that he was really doing this.

It was so wrong, and yet… yet he couldn’t help that he already felt his pants becoming too tight just by the thought of what was about to come.

Besides both of them, of course.

“Absolutely right, Cap,” Loki said, perfectly imitating even the intonation of Iron Man’s modulated voice, and he stepped forward and put his palm on Steve’s chest. Steve had a hard time remembering that it wasn’t, actually, Iron Man in front of him. And even if he did, his fluttering heart didn’t care the slightest. His palms were sweating and he could barely breathe. “And now, it’s time to drop the commanding tone, old man. You should relax.”

Loki gently pushed, and Steve stumbled backward until the back of his knees hit the edge of the bed and he sat down hard. He imagined that the other was smiling behind the mask, but he couldn’t be sure. His voice sounded like he was smiling, though - and it probably told something about him that he was almost always able to  _ hear  _ Iron Man’s facial expressions despite the voice modulators.

The armor towered over him, and Steve looked up. His hand moved without his conscious approval, the tips of his fingers touching the cold surface of the metal. “How will this work?” he asked quietly.

“If you ask me really nice, I’ll take this armor off,” Iron Man - Loki - smirked. Steve just  _ knew _ .

“Take it off.” His own voice sounded almost normal. But it was Captain America’s normal. It was his battlefield voice, the one he used in emergencies, when he was high on adrenaline and yet as calm as focused as one could ever be. When the world was clear, the priorities straight and he in his element.

He wasn’t in his element now, but he clearly had a lot of adrenaline circling in his veins, pumped by his frantically beating heart, while his blood rushed south, and by now he definitely strained in his clothes. The skin on his forearm itched, and he wanted to get rid of the fabric.

“That wasn’t very nice,” the other one complained, almost mocking. “Try again, Cap.”

“Take it off,” Steve tried again, trying to make his tone less authoritative this time around, and then added, “please.”

“Getting there,” Iron Man said. “Already found the magic word, now you’ll just need to practice to make it a bit more genuine.”

Steve felt his face burning, but he looked right into the glowing eyelets of the suit. “Please, Iron Man. Please.” He didn’t recognize his own voice, soft and pleading and vulnerable, breathless even though he hadn’t done anything yet.

Iron Man - Loki - dammit - put both his palms on Steve’s shoulders, squeezing them gently. “Gladly. And… well done, Steve. Good boy.”

*

Loki knew how to please his audience. He stripped both with practiced ease and intentional tardiness; long-drawn movements varied with quick jabs of his fingers as he released the armor’s mechanics. Steve figured it was mostly the magic, because no one would’ve known otherwise how to take off the armor, let alone to do it with this grace. But it was just a fleeting thought between two sucked in breaths, and then he couldn’t focus on anything else but the sight again. A question occurred, and he instinctively touched his own face.

The other one understood him without him saying a word.

“No, I won’t take off the mask. After all, my identity has to remain a secret, even to my lover.”

Steve couldn’t answer anything to that, mostly because all conscious thoughts went on a long vacation as more and more was revealed of the lean, muscular form, the bare skin and the scars peppering it here and there. It was gorgeous, and Steve wanted to put his mouth on it, follow the curves with his lips and kiss the mementos of past injuries, to ask about their origins and then to make the other man forget about them.

Half-naked already, Loki stepped closer, and Iron Man’s ungloved hand caressed Steve’s jawline, then slipped down to Steve’s chest, only separated through the fabric of the T-shirt Steve wore.

“You have too many clothes on,” Iron Man murmured. The modulators lost some of their effect without the full suit on, but the voice changed just enough to still remain familiar. “Take some off, winghead.”

Steve jerked, the nickname that no one else but Iron Man used going straight to his cock. He obeyed - his fingers were slightly shaking, and he didn’t have either the practice or the grace of the other man, but he was quick and efficient at least, and soon he sat back completely naked on the bed. He had no shame regarding his body - even if he had been somewhat, when he had first gotten it. The Army and lack of privacy there tended to train that out of everyone.

Iron Man tsked. “Good thing I didn’t ask for a show, old man. That was over before I could start to enjoy it. We’ll work on that for the next time.”

Steve couldn’t answer, his mind blue-screened at the mere implication of next time. They had barely even started anything, but he was already rock hard, his hips buckling to find some friction, and Iron Man half-naked in front of him made him even more horny. “Yes,” he blurted out belatedly.

A slight push on his shoulder, and Steve was laying on his back. The rest of the armor was gone in front of his hungry eyes, and Loki was already over him, knees around Steve’s thighs and those talented hands gripping their cocks together. Steve moaned at the sensation. The palm was rough, calloused.

“How… how do you know how he looks like under the armor?”

He hated himself, hated that he had to ask, but Loki didn’t stop. His thumb smeared Steve’s precome over the head of their cocks. 

“I know his identity,” he tossed out nonchalantly, like it didn’t matter.

Steve gasped for air. “What?!”

“Don’t ask me to tell; even villains respect superhero secret identities. The decent ones, at least. Let’s not talk about scum like Mysterio. I’m pretty sure Doom and Magneto know his -  _ my  _ \- identity as well.”

Steve choked on air again - partially because of Loki’s words, and partially because even while talking, Loki continued to stroke them, slow and patient movements with just the right amount of strength beneath to make Steve squirm with pleasure.

“Forget about it, Cap,” the other murmured. “Focus on this, relax, focus on me. Let’s just enjoy this.”

He was right, of course he was right. Steve relaxed - he wasn’t sure when he had tensed up, but it felt good to just let the tension go from his muscles. It was harder to make his mind go quiet and stop overthinking, but Loki - Iron Man - knew how to help with that too, and soon enough, Steve couldn’t think of anything else but those talented fingers on him.

Iron Man played with his dick expertly, but didn’t focus solely on it, his hands roaming over Steve’s body as well.

The gentle caress on his skin felt wonderful, and the slight tan of Iron Man looked amazing against Steve's pale Irish complexion. From time to time he gazed up to the helmet, the glowing eyelets, and imagined what it would be like to do this with the real deal - to see Iron Man's eyes - to see his expression... but then the other man pinched his nipples or scraped his fingers over Steve's side and his thoughts got derailed, with perfect timing, before he could spiral down into a worse mindset. 

Loki played him like an expert musician would play a fine-tuned instrument.

Steve allowed his hands to move, too. He started out hesitantly, at first, but there was no repercussion and no warning to stop, so he got more bold. He started to mirror the movements he received, putting his hand to the same spots, using his nails the same time and pinching with the same amount of force, and Iron Man echoed Steve’s moans. 

He got more relaxed and more tense at the same time, the pleasure building in his guts. The jerks on their dicks became faster.

“I’m gonna make you come, Cap,” the modulated voice promised, “and then I’m gonna ride you.”

“Shellhead…”

“Yeah, that’s right.” The cold metal of the helmet touched Steve’s neck and collarbone as Iron Man leaned forward, in sync with a forceful tug of his hand, and with a sudden jerk Steve’s orgasm spilled, the warm jizz coating his stomach.

“Iron Man,” Steve breathed out, heavy and boneless, but he knew all too well that this relief would only last for a minute or so, before he would get hard again due to the serum. It was both a curse and a blessing.

“You look beautiful when blissed out,” Iron Man quietly said, and he sounded so genuine Steve’s heart ached. 

It wasn’t true. None of this was true, but he wanted to forget about that so much.

The other man’s index finger pushed the spot on his forehead between his eyebrows. “You’re frowning again  _ already _ . What can a man do to make you relax, Cap?” It sounded more like a complaint, but then the curve of the shoulders changed. This wasn’t Iron Man’s gesture anymore - Steve knew this as Loki’s tell that he got a new, potentially terrible idea.

The green light rippled under Steve’s hands still gripping Iron Man’s waist as Loki changed forms, and suddenly Steve was staring up at Tony Stark’s face, and he couldn’t breathe.

“Maybe you’d prefer me, Captain?” the trickster purred, and Steve felt tempted to hit him, because he wanted to wrap his arms around Tony and pull him down and kiss him senseless until the Tony couldn’t breathe either, and...

It was wrong.

Maybe the whole thing was wrong from the beginning, but with Iron Man - it felt somehow… more okay. Steve was friends with Iron Man, truly, he had some ideas about his stance about his involvement in other people’s bedroom. But with Tony Stark, there was less of a connection. Steve admired Tony, of course, but they rarely talked in depth, and rarely were able to spend time together. And Tony was a civilian, a celebrity for sure, but not like the Avengers. 

Plus with Iron Man, thanks to the helmet, Steve didn’t have to look him in the eye while lying to himself that he was fucking someone who he didn’t in reality. There weren’t even sunglasses on the Tony hovering above him, and it felt  _ wrong. _

“Stop it, Loki,” Steve said, but his voice wasn’t as commanding as he wished it to be.

It was enough to look at Tony’s plump lips  _ (imagining what it would be if they were wrapped around Steve’s cock) _ , to see the crows feet around his eyes  _ (they made him even more handsome) _ and the amused smile for Steve to get immediately hard again. He raised his hand to somehow hide it, but only made it more obvious with the gesture.

“Why? You can do anything to me, Captain,” Tony blinked, wickedly innocent in his expression. Steve choked on air again. “I’d just want to make you happy. Is that so much to ask? You can take me, I want it. I need someone to help me feel good. Don’t you want to help me, Captain?”

“That’s enough!” 

Steve was red as a tomato and squeezed his eyes shut. He didn’t see the next flash of green light, but he sensed it, the fine hairs on his arm standing on edge for a moment. When he peeked out, it was Loki, in his own form, straddling his lap. The smirk was almost identical to the smile that was on his face while he wore Tony’s form: something that should’ve seemed innocent, but was mischievous to the core.

“Oh come on, Rogers. Only the blind wouldn’t notice how you look at our sponsor, too. I can’t decide if you’re horny on main or just have a type…”

Steve pursed his lips together and shoved Loki on the shoulders to get the other man off of him. Loki barely bulged.

“You said you wouldn’t reveal secret identities,” Steve reminded him. “Hinting isn’t allowed, either, you know.”

“Oh no, now you can guess, what? His hair color? Good luck finding him based on that,” Loki grinned.

“You’re an asshole.”

“Well, I do happen to have a lovely asshole, and it’ll be of your service soon,” Loki outright laughed at Steve’s expression, and Steve didn’t even try to decipher what his face conveyed anymore. Probably the same utter confusion that he felt.

Loki ran his hands on Steve’s upper arm, slid his palm to the shoulders and started to kneading the muscles there. Steve let it.

He should’ve still been angry, he shouldn’t let Loki off the hook this easily. Normally Steve had been good at clinging to his own rage and use it to fuel himself, but he didn’t, not this time. It left him like an air left a balloon, and Steve didn’t try to grab it and hold it.

He didn’t, because his banter, this was somehow… strange as it sounded, it was comfortable. It was very similar to Steve’s interactions with some of the team members, including Bucky and Iron Man with whom Steve was closest to. 

And though Loki admittedly crossed a line here, he backed off when Steve made clear that it was the case.

That was progress when it came to Loki, for sure.

“What if I don’t want it anymore?” He still had to ask, if not for else then out of curiosity.

Loki’s expression barely changed. He was still smiling, but somehow that smile became colder, with less meaning to it. “Then you can get dressed and leave my room, Rogers.” But even as he spoke, his hand found Steve’s crotch, his palm somehow both warm and cold at the same time on Steve’s dick. “Though I have a feeling you’re still somewhat interested.”

Steve considered the way out for a moment, but Loki was right. Their first try… this whole thing wasn’t perfect and without hiccups, but they were trying, at least, and it was  _ nice. _ It felt good, and Steve could indulge his fantasies, and Loki didn’t mind either. 

Steve focused on relaxing the muscles in his back and shoulder. “You promised to ride me,” he reminded Loki, and Loki smiled, bright and radiant, and Steve got the feeling the Asgardian enjoyed this way more than he let on. Which was no surprise, really.

“As you wish,” the illusion engulfed Loki again, and it was Iron Man who finished the sentence, “winghead.”

And it was fucking  _ mindblowing. _

Steve had no capacity left to wonder about anything else but the perfect tightness around his dick, the way Iron Man’s hip danced with the movements, the pleased moans from above, the clever hands playing with Steve’s body, on his pecs and thighs and neck and everywhere. The smell and noise and general feeling of sex was embracing them completely.

“Iron Man…” 

Steve’s hands also roamed the other man’s body, from the curves of the lean muscles to the landscape of scars, and for once he managed not to overthink everything. Steve was able to simply focus on the sensation of the skin under his fingertips, and the gift he got from the other man: the attention, the care. And Steve gave back the same, showering Iron Man with adoring glances, loving touches and delicate kisses. The other man bloomed with the treatment like a flower, opening up and letting Steve soak the almost palpable enjoyment up in exchange for getting and radiating back the same, until Steve’s movements fell apart and he couldn’t focus on being composed, on holding himself back.

It felt  _ wonderful _ and  _ perfect _ , so much better than any imagination, any fantasy could have, and soon Steve was on the edge again, but Iron Man didn’t let him end too fast. Always stopping before Steve could topple over, squeezing the base of his cock, Iron Man worked on him until Steve was begging to let him come, unashamed, blissed out, careless of anything else. No thoughts or worries left other than chasing his orgasm, other than the man above him, his name falling from Steve’s lips like a prayer, and finally Iron Man took mercy on him.

Iron Man sped up, circling his hips and riding him faster, while he reached down behind, twisting his spine so he could reach Steve’s balls to play with them in the last minute. 

Steve moaned with pleasure. “Loki…” He came, almost violently, the orgasm washing over him in waves, and it wasn’t stopped by the other man freezing on top of him. 

Steve had to close his eyes and throw his head back and groan, but when he was able to look up again, Loki’s blue eyes stared down at him instead of the glowing eyelets.

“Loki…” Steve repeated, quieter, uncertain. Loki jerked from his stunned state, and pulled himself off of Steve’s softened cock. After a wave of his hand, Loki was dressed, and the next movement magicked Steve’s clothes on him as well. Loki went to the door, and Steve was only able to see in his walk that he got fucked moments ago because he knew to look for the signs.

Opening the door, Loki looked at Steve. “Leave now, please.”

It wasn’t a request, but a demand, despite the polite tone. Steve got up and obeyed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Both Steve and Loki are consenting to both having sex itself and the shapeshifting (except one little hiccup in the middle, but they sort it out fast), but Iron Man doesn't know his image is used to such plays, therefore he can't consent to this usage. Yes, Steve knows it's problematic, and does it anyway. If it bothers you, please don't read.


	3. Tony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony has it bad. And his crushes don't seem to go away just because he has no chance with them.

Tony prodded a sensor with the tip of his screwdriver. “Now? Did you feel this now?” he glanced up at Bucky, but Bucky shook his head.

Tony cursed under his breath and mumbled as he poked more. He tried to figure out what had gone pear-shaped in the arm - Bucky insisted it happened while he was sparring with St-- Captain Rogers, and Tony did his best to focus. He was supposed to focus. Arm maintenance with Bucky was fun ever since they established that Bucky didn’t actually intend to kill him. (That was a very reasonable concern based on Bucky’s murder glares, okay?) It was a gradual, step-by-step process for Tony to figure out the inner workings of the arm, since he’d had to make his own blueprints based solely on scans and what he had been able to see with his own two eyes.

It was also a gradual and slow process for Bucky to learn to trust Tony, both with the arm and with other things, but the frequent maintenance sessions turned into a friendship, and by now sometimes Tony just tinkered with the arm - a new one, one that he had made specially to replace the piece of crap Hydra had forced on Bucky - to calm down, or to reorganize his thoughts.

Now, that wasn’t the case, as something had gone wrong in there, and Tony wasn’t yet able to figure out  _ what _ exactly, but while he investigated the problem and Bucky sat quietly and patiently, he couldn’t help his thoughts wandering away almost as a reflex.

Because his life was complicated, okay? It wasn’t easy to navigate on a good day, being both the owner and CIO and head of R&D of Stark Resilience as Tony Stark  _ plus  _ being a full-time superhero as Iron Man and  _ on top of that _ being a genius inventor as  _ himself _ . No matter how he counted, that were  _ three _ full-time jobs.

So his plate was already full even without fucking crushes.

Which he had. Sadly.

And not even just one, which was even more sad, because out of all people, he managed to have a crush on two of the rare kind of people who were out of his league - surely, he must’ve had some kind of twisted, fateful bad luck, or karma was just a bitch catching up to him for his early playboy days.

Not like he was ashamed of that time - well, at least, not for that aspect of it. He had always been respectful of his partners,  respected any boundaries that were set , and though society tended to either shame or applaud people for it, there was nothing wrong with a healthy sex drive (aka being horny). But maybe karma, something Tony didn’t believe in for starters, thought differently.

He poked again, and Bucky’s fingers spasmed, making Tony smile triumphantly. “There it is. I just have to renew a relay and then the sensors should be back to working order. And I’ll have to think of a new layout for these - if anyone, enhanced or not, can twist one out of its place, then we can surely do better than this.”

He didn’t wait for Bucky’s answer, just picked up some delicate tools to disconnect the artificial nerves, thoughts still drifting.

Some people found love in one person, and that was it; they were settled for a lifetime. Tony had never believed in that - never believed in only one kind of love to exist. How could he, when he had experienced from his very early childhood that love looked very different for everybody. He had gotten different kinds of love from the two Jarvises, from his mother - even from his father, though it took a very long time for Tony to accept that what his father could offer was also  _ love _ , just not the kind Tony had wanted or needed at that time. For the Jarvises, love had meant care, meant warmth in the form of a hug or food or words, meant to be there when needed. For Maria, love meant gifts and fingers brushed through Tony’s hair and giving piano lessons. And for Howard - well. For Howard, love meant to push Tony to his limits, to ask for his best, and not accept less than that, to make sure he was able to survive in a world Howard thought of as cruel and careless. Howard wasn’t bad to Tony out of malice, which only made it all the more painful.

And later, when Tony  had left his childhood home , he again experienced different kinds of love - from Rhodey and Rhodey’s family, from Pepper, from Happy. To Rhodey, love was sharing: his space, his time, his belongings, his friends. Rhodey showed his love by dragging Tony along or tagging along on adventures, by decorating Tony’s part of the room for holidays as well when Tony forgot, by taking him home to family dinners. Rhodey’s family had a similar concept of love as the Jarvises, but not the  _ same _ : where Ana was polite and withdrawn and nonchalant, Shona claimed the space she was in and made it hers; loud and proud and making everyone else orbit around her like a star. 

And then came Pepper with her no-nonsense attitude, not cutting Tony any slack, but with such kindness and care that was unimaginable before, and Happy, who loved and cared for him without expecting anything in return, ever, and took everything in stride and still loved Tony nonetheless.

So Tony had learned from very early on that there were different loves to receive and different loves to give, and if he wanted  _ enough _ then he had to accept that, and he did, wholeheartedly.

He also knew that he could never have settled in a relationship because he  _ needed _ more than one kind of love, and he was aware, painfully so, that this wasn’t  _ normal _ and wasn’t  _ accepted _ , not in relationships. At least not in  _ romantic _ ones. He had learned that, at Ty’s side, at Sunset’s side. He was allowed to have different friends, with different kinds of love, but not lovers, because one should only have one lover at a time, one should only have one of that kind of commitment at a time.

And Tony could never find a love, or a lover, that fully satisfied his cravings, who could give everything he needed, so he stopped trying.

Maybe he should’ve listened to his mother, who always said...

“Tony.” Bucky touched Tony’s hand, hovering above the open-plated metal arm, motionless for who knew how long as he was lost in his bitter thoughts.

Tony jumped only a little, and he was proud of himself for it. “Sorry,” he croaked out, looking up at Bucky and flashing a businessman smile. “Sorry. Oh, don’t frown at me, Buckaroo. I’m just a bit tired, doesn’t mean I can’t take care of your little problem here.” He started working again. “Had a bad night. Well, several in a row, but you know, business is quite stressful, so it’s kinda expected. I have a massage appointment already. They’ll work it out of my body, and then I’ll sleep like a baby. Which is a horrible idiom, by the way. I have no idea who came up with it when babies are known to wake up their parents like, every few hours. Who wants to be like that…?” Tony talked and talked while he got back to repairing the arm, and ignored Bucky’s worried scowl and the way the ex-assassin glared daggers at him. It didn’t matter. Bucky didn’t know where Tony’s thoughts had truly been, and it was good that way.

Bucky didn’t need to know how obsessed Tony was with Barnes' best friend, Steve Rogers, AKA Captain America.

Most superhero identities weren’t known, but Captain America was an exception since his identity had been public since World War Two, and Winter Soldier, because Bucky insisted on a trial for his so-called crimes as the Winter Soldier. The court acquitted him of all charges, of course, due to brainwashing and mind-control, and he had been allowed to join the Avengers under Captain America’s strict surveillance since then, which wasn’t a punishment at all for any parties involved. 

Because Captain America obviously loved his best pal. 

It was easy to see in the way the Captain treated Bucky. They communicated without words, to an extent that some villains whispered about telepathy; their touches were long-drawn and familiar, their gazes open and frequent. They were more gentlemanly than to kiss or do anything of the sort in public, but Tony was sure behind soundproof walls, they were up to all kinds of things, and even thinking of that made him die a little bit inside.

What wouldn’t he do or give to be in Bucky’s place, it was hard to say. He acted utterly ridiculous around Captain Rogers, especially because Steve was a genuinely good guy who went out of his way to try and make Tony happy, and Tony couldn’t bear to ever admit to him his own sinful thoughts and what unspeakable things would’ve made him happy. He was a lot of things, but he definitely wasn’t a cheater or a homewrecker. He would never stand between Steve and Bucky, and their well-earned happiness together.

The relay was switched for a new one, and Tony was only playing with the arm now, feeling around and checking some things before he’d turn the sensors back on.

Plus, while Steve was progressive in many ways, Tony was sure he wouldn’t take well to having someone who couldn’t give his whole heart to him. And Tony couldn’t.

Loving Steve from a distance was fine. But even if Bucky wasn’t in the picture, Tony knew himself better than to expect that he would settle down with one person. Steve could offer stability, a steady and patient love, and Tony craved that, but he craved so much more than that.

No matter how much Steve tried, he wouldn’t be able to give  _ all  _ Tony needed. Steve was a safe choice; Steve had been on a pedestal since Tony knew how to walk or talk - Steve would be a great boyfriend. Well, apart from being a superhero and therefore in constant mortal danger, and the savior complex that was probably visible even from space, and the repressed mental health issues everyone had in their line of work, and… well, yeah. Maybe he wouldn’t be an  _ ideal _ boyfriend, but he’d certainly be a safe choice, and someone who would want to provide for Tony’s needs. He’d be the kind of lover Maria Stark wished for his son. The kind of lover that made Tony feel safe and home with his mere presence.

But he couldn’t give, for example, the same things as Loki. The enigmatic and magnetic Asgardian, who Tony wanted to get close to since day one, attracted Tony like a fucking flame attracted a moth to its light.

Loki was the complete opposite of Steve Rogers, of Captain America, but Tony wanted that just as badly. Loki was everything moms warned their kids against: the one who gave you the butterflies-in-the-stomach feeling, the one who lit your nerves on fire by his mere presence. He was exciting and dangerous. He was magical in all senses of the word - he’d run Tony up to the wall and leave him there panting and spent, both literally and figuratively. He would be adventure and crazy sex and shenanigans and no moment spent bored. He wouldn’t be warm - he’d be a fucking bonfire that burned everything and everyone, including Loki and Tony themselves, but oh what a burn it would be.

Not like it mattered, not like any of that mattered, of course. Tony didn’t deserve either of them, and didn’t have a chance with either of them. Steve was settled with someone else, and even if he wasn’t, there was no way  _ Captain America _ would be interested in anything regarding Tony Stark.

Tony Stark, who was just a warmongering businessman. Tony Stark, who had a reputation of sleeping around. Tony Stark, who never did anything to paint his name in a better light except throwing money around that he had too much of anyway.

Neither would he have a chance with Loki, known for his disdain toward humans both individually and in general, never shying away from voicing how much better he was than them, how much practically every realm was better than this one. It seemed that there was nothing on Earth, short of some certain kinds of pizza, that was worth a damn in the eyes of the Trickster God.

And it was fine, really. Tony could live with that: knowing that Steve was happy, even if it was with someone else, made him content, and Loki obviously wasn’t looking for anything like a relationship.

Fuck, they didn’t even know Tony was also Iron Man. 

And keeping secrets - which often meant outright lying to their faces - surely wasn’t helping Tony’s chances. He seriously wondered how the hell did he manage to fool the God of Lies - probably because Loki had rarely questioned him in a way that required actual lying - but still Tony figured it was impressive of him.

“Penny for your thoughts,” Bucky interrupted his musings.

Tony stilled for a moment, then decided that a very little detail of the truth was better to go by than to lie to him again.

“I was wondering, out of the team, is it Steve’s or Loki’s ass that looks the best?”

“Iron Man’s,” Bucky answered without missing a beat.

Tony choked on his laugh. “You don’t even see his ass, he’s in an armor.”

“Still,” Bucky waved it away, grinning. “The runner-up is obviously Black Widow, though. Neither Steve nor Loki can beat those two, obviously.”

“Obviously,” Tony repeated in a mocking tone. 

“Well, I’m sure Steve would agree with me,” Bucky added innocently.

“Steve would say you,” Tony corrected. That’s what good boyfriends did after all.

Bucky snorted. “Sure.”

Well, if Tony was completely honest, Steve did pay special attention to Iron Man, but he didn’t know it was Tony underneath the armor. He paid special attention because as opposed to Tony, Iron Man and Steve were friends, and Steve was a good guy who looked out for friends. Also, while Steve knew the background of most of his teammates, Iron Man was a wild card in that regard: no one knew how much combat expertise, training or anything of the sort Iron Man had. His past was a blank page, and Tony made sure to keep it that way, to avoid anyone putting the pieces together. 

It was hard even with precautions like that, and there were days when Tony was sure his teammates were about to find out, and when they didn’t, Tony didn’t understand how he managed to keep his identity secret for this long. Other days he was proud. Sometimes he found himself wishing for someone to figure it out already, but his teammates didn’t try to look - it just wasn’t polite to sniff around fellow superheroes’ identities. Most heroes agreed that their life was crazy enough without worrying about nosy colleagues.

Lately out of everyone, it was Loki who worried Tony the most. Loki might have been after something, because the demigod kept staring at Iron Man for a while, and then, in a week or so, he started to stare at Tony as well, which was even more worrisome. Since he first noticed the increased amount of attention, Tony tried to be extra careful around Loki, in both personas - and it was fucking hard because he could barely  _ function _ around him without acting like a braindead horny teenager.

Loki was bringing out his most crazy self, both in good and bad ways.

But he was Iron Man  _ and _ Tony Stark; he had been doing this whole secret identity gig for a long time, and he had even more practice at pretending from decades in the business. He’d manage, he always managed somehow.

Maybe Loki had shared his suspicions with Steve too, though, because they both seemed to be acting weird around Tony (and Iron Man) lately. It was even obvious with Steve - while the Asgardian was good with masks and pretending, Steve was terrible at them. Steve had always been kind of flustered around Tony, surely because of Howard and the connection to his past - Tony was sorry that he reminded Steve so much of a time he couldn’t ever get back and probably craved so badly - but he couldn’t help it either. But lately Steve also wasn’t talking as much to Iron Man, and that stung more than it should.

Tony should probably ask Steve, and maybe even Loki too, if they were alright or if there was something he could help with. Like friends did.

After all, Iron Man was definitely friends with Steve, and maybe even with Loki, if Loki even counted anyone here as friends.

Maybe, just maybe, he could ask as Tony Stark as well. Tony Stark was only the sponsor of the Avengers, not their friend, but he always made sure to be there for them, ready to help them whenever he could.

It was just normal that he’d want to help this time as well, right?

Tony closed the plates on the metal arm, patted Bucky’s shoulder, apologized for having to go, and fled his own workshop, feeling Bucky’s gaze on the back of his neck the whole time.

Right.

He was going to ask.


	4. Loki

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little insight to the events from the God of Mischief himself.

Despite what everyone seemed to think, Loki wasn’t a coward. He just had gained a different arsenal of abilities than most of the Aesir around him, and his assets were less garish than muscles and swords. His mother always had said to not listen to the whispers behind his back, to be proud of his abilities, and Loki was proud, and did try not to listen. He learned to hide his hurt to protect himself from even more harm, and he learned to sneer back when Thor didn’t save him from his friends. Loki always knew he was different, but he had to grow up to start to really appreciate this difference. To not want to be like them anymore.

He didn’t avoid fights because he couldn’t win them, but because the reasons others thought worth fighting for didn’t mean enough to him. The battles he _did_ fight mostly went on behind backs, out of sights and under the surfaces; small victories here and there until his enemies were bleeding out from a thousand invisible, most often not physical cuts.

While Loki was used to fighting his battles in his own style, he wasn’t used to fighting his feelings. He had never had this kind of problem… well, he had never been on good terms with his heart, sure, but he had always managed to keep it in check before.

But since that fiasco with Rogers, Loki didn’t feel in control of himself anymore.

He couldn’t focus, magic slipping from his fingers when he tried to weave its threads. All books seemed boring and all the music tasteless, both Asgardian and Midgardian varieties. His thoughts kept wandering back to the scene he had created, the trap he had set up for the good Captain, and yet he himself had walked into it.

It was supposed to be fun. It was supposed to help them deal with this situation - help Loki get over the Captain by helping the Captain get over Iron Man. 

Instead, it had made everything even more complicated - in every sense of the word. Loki hadn’t expected the discoveries he had made during the experience.

At first slipping into the shape of Iron Man didn’t feel any different than other transformations. It took a few moments for the feelings to come, the essence to cloud over his own thoughts, but then it was almost overwhelming. Loki had rarely experienced this amount of guilt and self-loathing in mortals - these petty little creatures were so good at fooling themselves, so good at believing in their own goodness, that it hit Loki unexpectedly. It made him stumble, it made him distracted, almost easy on the Captain while behind the masks - both literal and figurative masks - as he tamped down the emotions, winding them up to find the source, to understand them better.

And then it had enlightened everything. Iron Man dealing with his past, Iron Man being lonely, Iron Man… 

Iron Man being Tony Stark.

It had been in that very moment, in the mortal’s skin, inside the man, filled with Stark’s essence, that Loki figured it out, and it made  _ so much sense _ he almost chuckled that no one else had thought of it.

Stark’s guilt manifesting in the form of a superhero, aiming to right the wrongs he thought he had done. Iron Man being rarely seen around Tony Stark, despite officially being his bodyguard. Iron Man using Stark’s technology so offhandedly. The secrecy about his civil identity. The two personas’ behavior toward each other.

Loki had just smiled, and enjoyed that he could tease Rogers even with this new information, acting like he had known it for a long time, not mere minutes.

But as the knowledge settled in, even more came - not just information, but  _ feelings _ too, and Loki was used to handling those, he had done so often while shapeshifting, but they made him curious about Stark, and maybe, he even got careless. He had used the opportunity to get to know even more about the previously simply interesting and now suddenly fascinating human.

And Stark was… complex. More complex than most mortals, at least - he couldn’t reach up to Loki, of course, but still… The layers and layers of past hurt and present torture, the cravings and the unsatisfied needs, that sparkling, shining mind, and the  _ feelings _ . Dear magic, the  _ emotions _ .

Loki had felt filled to the brim with the man’s longing and hunger and denial and love and many things he didn’t even try to find names for.

But one thing was obvious.

Tony Stark loved Steve Rogers.

Before Loki could even get into the point in his processing where he started to utilize the new information, he had gotten lost in the sensations of the flesh, the pleasure of their bodies, with the Captain. Loki had thought himself well-versed in the art of pleasure, he knew how to bring joy to his partners and himself, but he wasn’t prepared to have sex in the body of a mortal with this sensitivity. Because humans felt  _ so much _ and  _ so intensely _ and Loki got lost in it, giving himself over to the lust and pleasure, breaking Steve into pieces and falling apart in the process too, almost losing himself in the foreign landscapes of Stark’s body and mind.

But then.

Then.

Rogers slipped.

And he slipped in the worst possible moment - or in the best, maybe? Because in the peak of his pleasure, the dear Captain didn’t sigh Iron Man’s name, didn’t forget about the reality of their situation, but he said  _ Loki _ , he remembered it was Loki under the disguise and accepted it, gave himself over to  _ Loki _ instead of  _ Iron Man. _

Funnily enough, that was the last drop that made everything burst through the dam, and Loki couldn’t hold on to his illusion and was only able to send Rogers away, as quickly as possible while he remained very still, fighting for his control.

He managed to keep the facade up until Rogers had left his room, and collapsed only after, shifting again but this time against his will, stuck in the foreign body and mind and shape, too overwhelmed by everything to be able to focus and change back. 

He was only able to curl up around the soft mortal flesh of his current body, burrow himself deep into the warmth of his bed, still smelling of the good Captain. He longed with every fiber of his being in those moments, and started the painstaking procedure of gathering his own self around the shell he had taken until he had enough of it to slip back into his usual disguise, the Asgardian face he had always worn.

He wasn’t sure who wanted Rogers more, he or Stark, but it didn’t matter when it added up. He didn’t know who hated himself more, him or Stark, but who cared when their loneliness left the same bitter taste in his mouth. He didn’t know who loved his creations more, him or Stark, but it didn’t matter when Loki tried to separate himself from the essence of the man. It didn’t matter who craved validation more. It didn’t matter which of them wanted to be  _ good _ more. Nothing of those things mattered until Loki was back to himself, and even then, he needed time before he risked even thinking of Stark, not wanting to accidentally slip back into the Midgardian’s shape.

And now, after a day of recovering from the experience, Loki knew he was… well, as mortals would put it, he was fucked. 

And not just literally.

He was more interested in the good Captain than ever, his cravings stronger than ever instead of satisfied. But also he couldn’t unsee what he discovered about Stark, and on top of his ridiculous feelings for their team leader, now he felt this soul-deep connection to the inventor as well, and wished for him just as strongly.

Meanwhile these two people were - to use again that mortal idiom - head over heels for each other, and while that wouldn’t present any problem on Asgard, Midgardian culture didn’t allow space for more than one partner at a time with a clear conscience. Neither Stark nor Rogers would pursue any kind of lustful interaction with Loki after they figured out that they could be together with each other.

He also knew that despite his reputation, Stark wouldn’t accept a one-night stand, and Rogers probably wouldn’t accept any offer again for a long time either. 

Not to mention the fact that by itself, the lust wouldn’t have been a problem, but Loki didn’t crave only their bodies now. 

Loki was stuck with his longing without any real chance to live up to it, or make it go away.

All in all, he had every reason to deem this one-night stand one of his ideas that seemed perfect in the beginning and turned horrible in the end.

*

After another day, Loki had had enough of his own misery. He never had been someone to dwell on pain for long - well, not like this, at least. He wasn’t as volatile as his adopted brother, but he liked to use his emotions as fuel for his actions, coal to light the fire of his plans. So if Rogers slipped - Loki was going to confront him about it. No one was allowed to make a fool of the God of Mischief, not even the good Captain - and not even Loki himself.

He yanked the door of his room open and marched out, determined to head straight for Rogers’s floor, but before he could go as far as the elevator, he pummelled right into Stark who tried to pass by in his corridor.

Loki almost trampled over the Midgardian.

Stark pushed his hands into his pants pocket, feigning nonchalance as best as he could, but Loki wasn’t the God of Lies for nothing. He saw right through the act.

“Oh, hi Loki,” Stark said, and flashed a smile - a bright, fake one. Loki wondered if the Midgardian ever got lost behind his masks, if he ever struggled to know who the real him was under all the layers of hiding. If he was even more similar to Loki - well, in his youth, at least - than Loki thought. “Fancy meeting you here.”

Loki gifted the mortal with one of his icier glares, to hide the way his stomach clenched.  _ Now _ that he knew what to look for, all the signs of nervousness were obvious: the hidden hands slightly fiddling in the cover of the fabrics, the flutter of the eyes, the slight pitch of the voice.  _ Now _ that his attention wasn’t only on Stark like it had been while he had prepared for his transformation, but it was cleared by the knowledge gained, he noticed an awful lot more too. 

Stark’s Adam’s apple was bobbing in a way that made Loki want to bite. The controlled breathing that raised his shoulders into a gentle curve made Loki want to make Stark pant and gasp for air with pleasure. The slight tan of his skin that came from artificial light to balance out the fact that he spent most of his time indoors was made to be crisscrossed with nail marks on it. That delicious lip bite. The ruffled hair, slightly oiled up from the fingers that had been smeared while absent-mindedly running through the locks.

The longing bit into Loki’s heart. He wondered what it would be like if  _ he _ ran his fingers through the mortal’s hair, if he could lick those curves, if he could touch that skin. If he were allowed to pull a blanket over themselves, pressed close, in the warmth of a room while thunder and snow raged outside.

Impossible wishes.

So Loki glared and hid everything behind  _ his own _ masks, so similar to Stark’s, just perfected even more.

“I live here,” Loki pointed out, “in this building and on this corridor. As you already know.”

It was, technically, still Stark’s home, but no one thought of it like that anymore. It was Avengers mansion now, and Avengers headquarters, and the Avengers’ home.

Loki now wondered if Stark felt it like home or not. And if yes, which one of his personas' home it was?

“Yeah, what a coincidence,” Stark grinned, and shrugged, and looked directly in Loki’s eyes. “Good thing, because I have a question for you: what the fuck?”

Loki blinked and raised an eyebrow. “Pardon me?”

“You’ve been watching me like a shark lately,” Stark clarified. “I’m used to attention, but seriously, this is intense even on my register. I know I’m just a mere unenhanced, mortal human, and I know you usually don’t bother with us. So: why are you staring at me like that?”

Loki, before he could stop himself, took a step back at the harsh words. They weren’t unkind - more like exasperated, and a little more focus told Loki that Stark was exhausted to the bone. Which wasn’t any surprise with the knowledge that he lived two lives at the same time, one for himself and one for his superhero identity. That was, in itself, an amazing balancing act, and practically no one else noticed in a house full of spies, gods and enchanted individuals.

Loki was impressed. Loki was… more than impressed. His chest ached with it, whatever it was. He wasn’t going to call it  _ love _ and not even  _ respect _ . That was stupid for a mortal. He himself was the one who had warned Thor: Midgardians with their fleeting lives weren’t meant to be loved by Aesir.

And his focus revealed something else too - a fear that echoed long and wailing in Loki’s soul, buried in the mortal so essentially that even the shapeshifting hadn’t brought it out to the light, but this moment somehow made Loki sense it. Stark would never have said it out loud, but he spent his life in this shadow, cast upon every moment: the fear of being found out and rejected. (Again?)

That, Loki understood more than anyone: it was another connection, another similarity that bound their souls into a pattern of hurt, and another that they’d deny to death.

Loki slowly exhaled, not sure when he had started to hold his breath, and blinked, meeting Stark’s gaze.

“Sometimes one just needs to know the other, Stark,” he said, the words coming out before he thought them through. Loki didn’t plan to out himself like this. He mastered many things through his life, but honesty definitely wasn’t among them, even if he preferred twisting the words over actual, straight up lies. The latter was found out too easily, while a truth hidden behind another thinly veiled truth was better protected.

And yet, despite Loki was speaking the  _ truth _ , even more than he planned, Stark still took a step back, his face hardening. “Don’t try to threaten me, Loki,” he said, “I’m not afraid of you.” By the frantically beating heart, Loki knew the latter was a lie.

Loki wasn’t sure how to answer, but he knew he had to get out of this situation before making an even bigger fool of himself. So he just shrugged. “Interpret it as you wish,” he grinned, and turned around.

Stark didn’t try to stop Loki as he walked away, and Loki moved slow and even. He made sure to head out of his floor with seemingly intact grace. He wandered the next corridor and the one after that almost aimlessly, one foot put after the other, breathing even, head up and shoulders down.

He didn’t halt until he was in an almost abandoned area of the Tower, and only then did Loki stop, and hit his head on the wall. 

“What the fuck,” he asked no one in particular, and this time he hit the wall with his fist - it left a dent. Loki growled at it, frustrated. This was… more like Thor’s style, destruction without purpose. Loki was better than this.

Loki was usually better with his words, too.

Loki had  _ never _ acted stupidly in his life, but here he was, rendered incapable by  _ mere mortals _ .

_ Mortals who weren’t even trying to achieve this feat. _

And yet they managed - just by the virtue of being who they were.

Loki wanted to scream, and rage, and break their necks, but he also wanted to weep and curl up with them and allow them to  _ see _ him.

_ Stupid stupid stupid. _

He had to get a better hold on himself.

Also, he had started to go and find Rogers before Stark disturbed him, so he was going to do  _ exactly _ that, damn mortals and their stupid lives and emotions. And Loki was going to demand answers… and maybe more.

Yes, after everything that went down, Loki figured he deserved at least a little bit more. Ste-- Rogers wasn’t the kind to let him have his ways if not on board, so Loki could go a bit initiative again. He wasn't going to simply _ask_, he was going to _act._


	5. Steve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve has a few days to think about the events, including a conversation with Bucky, and he comes to a conclusion. Loki has different conclusions. They collide, not exactly the way Steve planned.

“So, according to Bruce, this is the best Armenian restaurant in the whole state, which I guess must be an exaggeration because I can’t imagine Bruce methodically trying out every Armenian restaurant in New York,” Steve said as he pushed the door open. The bell above it rang with a high-pitched sound.

“Why not? Guy’s a scientist after all.” Bucky pointed out, but he made sure that his tone remained questioning. He did this often - phrasing things so he could backtrack if the recipient of the words reacted negatively. Steve wondered sometimes if his friend would ever leave this new habit (this past survival strategy and present coping mechanism) behind. But it didn’t hurt anyone, least of all Bucky, so Steve never mentioned it.

“Fair point,” he said instead as Bucky picked a table then sat down. “Still, even New York City must have a lot of these.”

“Armenian cuisine is not that well-known or popular.”

“We’ll see now if it’s for a reason or not,” Steve said cheerfully, both falling silent as they started to study the menu. This was one of their comforting weekly rituals: each Friday, if they could, they went out to try a new restaurant. Food in the 21st century was too amazing to always eat pizza like Clint did, or hamburgers (oh excuse him,  _ cheeseburgers _ ) like Tony Stark so often was seen with.

After they both ordered, Bucky put down the menu. “Spill it, Rogers.”

Steve had the sense to not pretend to be surprised. “How do you know?”

“Pft,” Bucky huffed, “best friends since childhood, remember?”

“It’s not me who has memory problems,” Steve smirked.

“Sometimes I doubt that. Anyway, I know you. And you’ve been itchy and restless since Tuesday. What happened on Tuesday?”

Steve fell silent for a bit, glad that the waitress bringing out their soup gave him an excuse to do so. Bucky was a sniper, though: he was patient enough to not say anything more as they wolfed down the first dish. Their whole conversation consisted only of moans and grunts of enjoyment over the good taste for a while. Steve had no idea what the soup was made of, especially since the menu didn’t give other information besides the name and the price, but it sure was delicious.

After they were done and their table was cleaned for the second dish, Steve couldn’t avoid Bucky’s question any longer.

“I, uh, I did something bad, and I enjoyed it way too much,” he started cautiously. 

Bucky raised a questioning eyebrow at that. “You? A bad thing, in what sense of the word? Because I know you’d never refer to anything illegal slash forbidden like that if you still thought it was a morally good action, which is usually necessary for you to do it, so I’m a bit lost here.”

Steve pouted. “Morally bad,” he corrected, and bit his lower lip. “I, uh… I had sex with Loki.”

“You  _ what?!” _ Bucky shrieked so loudly everyone in the diner turned their heads to them. Bucky blushed and made an apologetic hand gesture, but didn’t take his eyes off of Steve.  _ “You what?” _ he repeated, more quietly but not less firmly.

Steve squirmed under the intense scrutiny. “I know, I know! Bad idea! He cannot be trusted and--”

“I didn’t say that!” Bucky protested, shouting again. This time, he glared back when some heads turned towards them again, and the people suddenly became very busy with their own meals.

“Okay, but I know what you think, the security and the safety measures and--”

“I don’t think you need much of that with Loki,” Bucky cut him off again. “I just… you haven’t ever mentioned… I don’t know where this came from?”

“What do you mean? You don’t think I’d ‘need much of that’?” It was Steve’s turn to be bewildered. “Bucky, you’re usually almost as paranoid as Widow!”

“It’s not paranoia if they’re really after you,” Bucky answered as flippant as ever, and waved his hands. “And yet I’m not concerned about Loki the least bit.”

“He’s basically a chaos god. And as much as I understand Asgardian… culture… that really is important.” Steve struggled with his words, feeling them weird said out loud. “For people who live long like them, these… attributes… are really determinative. Or the other way around, I’m not sure.”

“Exactly,” Bucky made a long, pointed look. “He’s a trickster, not an evil force. People treating him like he’s a monster, like he’s born  _ wrong _ , that’s what can make anyone cross the line, but he ain’t evil. And he can be as trustworthy as anyone else. He tries, at least, and that’s a huge thing,” Bucky said, suddenly very serious, and Steve found himself ashamed.

Because he was one of the people who treated Loki like… well, not like a monster, but like someone not trustworthy enough, sure.

“He tried to invade New York with an alien army,” he reminded Bucky. Steve was there, and he had fought the Chitauri. (Unknown to him at the time, Bucky had also been there in the end, but he had been there as the Winter Soldier and had firm orders to not get into any contact with anyone else fighting the aliens. And as opposed to Steve, Bucky hadn’t known why the aliens were there and why he had been fighting them off - he had just known he had to shoot as many of them as possible, and so he had done that, then had returned to base immediately afterwards.)

“Yeah, under the effect of torture and mind control,” Bucky snapped. “You didn’t blame me for that.”

“At first the team was wary around you as well,” Steve pointed out.

“Yeah, you were afraid I’d snap or fall back into old habits,” Bucky shook his head, “not that I’d intentionally want to betray you. He doesn’t show it, but that shit hurts like a bitch, y’know?”

Steve remained quiet, and when the waitress brought out the rest of their lunch, they both ate without much enthusiasm despite the delicious dishes.

It took almost until they were finishing the second course and ordering the dessert before Steve spoke up again, bursting out one of the thoughts that had been balling up in his throat the whole time.

“It’s so strange, y’know?! I feel like I’ve seen more of the  _ real _ Loki than all of the other times before combined!”

“He can be confusing sometimes,” Bucky admitted, carefully casual, while Steve went on venting.

“I just don’t know if I can trust this. This whole… I feel like I saw him for the first time that day, but at the same time, I know he deliberately tried to mess with my head, and I know he has magic, so what’s the truth?” Steve kept grumbling.

“Listen--”

“Sure, it’s nice to feel like he cares but does he really? And that stunt he pulled in the middle, that wasn’t acceptable at all. And then he had the audacity to freak out when I called his name? How the hell should I deal with that? And yet I can’t get him out of my head!” Steve finished with a frustrated groan.

Bucky stared down at his plate through the whole tirade, but he looked up somewhat sharply at this.

“Fuck if I know all the answers to these questions, but I know one thing: Loki wants to earn trust.”

“He doesn’t follow orders!” Steve complained.

Bucky snorted.”Neither do  _ you _ ,” he pointed out, not even a little bit apologetic. “Neither does Iron Man.”

Steve turned beet red at that. Bucky, of course, knew about his crush: Steve had kept no secrets from Bucky anymore. Being each others’ anchor in the new century just strengthened their friendship. There was one thing, though, that Steve had failed to mention earlier, and it was time for that confession too. “Well uhm, speaking of Iron Man…”

“Oh no,” Bucky said. “You just confessed you had sex with Loki, why are you bringing up Iron Man  _ right now?” _

Steve scowled, because Bucky was too smart for his own good sometimes. He took a deep breath - and blurted out all at once, “LokishapeshiftedintoIronManwhilewehadsex.”

The confession was met with silence.

“ExCUsE Me?!” Bucky finally breathed, and it didn’t matter that he didn’t raise his voice, it conveyed his shock without the added volume just as perfectly.

“Loki was, uh, Loki wore, his form, uh, while we were…”

“I’ve heard you the first time around,” Bucky cut it off, and he seemed furious, “Steve, do you have the slightest idea how derogatory and dehumanizing that must’ve been? How could you ask something like that?”

“I didn’t ask for it!” Steve squeaked, offended. “Loki sought me out with this  _ offer _ to shapeshift and do this. He said I’m too distracted and therefore distracting in the field and he feared for his own safety.”

“And you just accepted it?”

“Not at first… but after a while…” Steve swallowed and didn’t look up. ”Yeah. I figured, Loki was right and I either get over this crush or I have to resign from being team leader.”

Bucky sighed heavily and shook his head. “And you’d never resign, so you… what? Decided to fuck your feelings out?”

Steve gritted his teeth and felt his face burning. “Basically.”

“And how did that work out for you?” There was so much sass and barely suppressed sarcasm in the question, it was obvious Bucky knew the answer.

“Bad,” Steve admitted nonetheless.

Bucky waited.

“So uh… I might have  _ three _ crushes now.”

“Wait a minute. Three?” Bucky asked with a grin. Steve resisted the urge to push Bucky off his chair. Bucky  _ knew _ about Steve’s crushes already, Steve had talked about them a few times (okay, okay,  _ constantly, _ whenever he got the chance), but if he wanted to do this, so be it. Steve rolled his eyes.

“Yes, three. There’s Iron Man.” Steve lifted his hand and counted on his fingers. “Who is like, the way a person would imagine superheroes. He’s cocky and sassy, has a great sense of humor, and though he seems indifferent at first, in reality he has a heart of gold that will bleed out with how much he cares.” Steve didn’t realize until that point how dreamy his voice had become. Yet he continued because Bucky was waiting in silence, without making fun of him for the time being. “Then there’s Tony Stark. He’s not only the most handsome fella with a perfect bubble butt, though I might admit those are wonderful treats too, but also he’s how all billionaires should be. He’s the opposite of greedy, he’s so ready to make the world a better place with every asset he has, whether it’s money or his superhero bodyguard. He’s not obliged to allow Iron Man to be an Avenger, but he does, and not only does Tony allow it, but he supports Iron Man wholeheartedly. He sponsors the Avengers, he made a safe space for teenagers in the Tower, he has more charities sustained with his money than I have shirts. He’s sweet and, when alone, shy and a true genius.”

Steve stopped, breath hitching and skin blushing. He hadn’t planned to gush this much about these men, but it was hard to stop when he had company that he could speak freely with.

And yet, when it came to Loki, he felt tongue tied and his throat locked up. Loki was somehow simpler and more complicated at the same time, but most of all, Loki was so fresh in his mind that Steve had a hard time putting his feelings into words.

“Stark and Iron Man and…” Bucky waited, and when it became obvious that Steve wouldn’t talk again, Bucky finished for him instead,  _ “and Loki?” _

“Look I didn’t plan this, I…”

Steve couldn’t finish. He could only watch, helpless and mortified, as his best friend bent in half with a heartfelt, belly-deep laugh.

It took Bucky almost two minutes (Steve counted the awkward seconds) until he quieted down enough to dry his tears, and was able to speak between amused chuckles. “Pal,” he started, and Steve perked up, “you’re in for  _ trouble _ now.” Then he burst out in another round of guffaws.

“You’re not helping!”

“You’ve never needed my help to fuck up your life before!”

“I always needed your help to get out of trouble, though,” Steve admitted very quietly, not looking Bucky in the eye. He only glanced up when the silence stretched out between them, and found that Bucky had a fond, thoughtful smile on his face.

“Yeah, I can recall that,” Bucky admitted, putting his chin on his palm. “Little Stevie was always found in back alleys trying to fight guys twice his size and getting his ass whooped.”

“Little Stevie was very lucky to have a best friend like Bucky, who always came to his rescue.” Once upon a time, Steve wouldn’t have admitted that he had  _ needed _ rescue, but he was done with stubbornly clinging to illusions and masks.

Bucky shook his head, almost exasperated, and smirked. “Don’t get all sappy on me, Rogers,” he said, but he was blinking a little too much to be convincing. “How do you plan to deal with this Loki situation?”

“No idea.” Steve sighed and drank the remnants of his water. “Like I said, I don’t know if I can trust him. Or if him opening up was real or not. After all, he wore someone else’s face. How paradoxical would it be if that showed his true self more than his everyday actions?”

Bucky slid his index finger over the rim of his glass, causing a humming sound. “Knowing  _ you, _ I don’t think you’d have sex with anyone you don’t trust at all,” he said, thoughtfully. “Loki’s been with the team for almost a year now. Plenty of time to either betray us or prove himself. He didn’t do the former, so I think that qualifies him for the latter.”

“We did everything to keep him on the good side,” Steve muttered under his breath.

“Except giving him trust and the blank slate he deserved just as much as I did and that I got by default,” Bucky pointed out dryly. “You just continued the emotional neglect he had all through his life.”

Steve’s brows raised up. “Emotional neglect?”

Bucky blushed as he realized that he had told a bit too much. He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms in front of himself. “Nevermind.” He unfolded himself and waved to the waitress to bring the bill. “Point is, he deserves better. He isn’t a monster, or a villain, Steve. He was manipulated and tortured into leading that attack. His actions are usually more like reactions to the way he’s treated. Treat him as an equal and you’ll see the difference it makes,” he advised.

They paid and left the restaurant, walking back to the Tower. It was far - a good two hours even at their brisk pace - but that was the point. Steve liked to just wander in the city, feeling the energy of it, seeing people passing by, being part of the bustle of the city but also being a witness to it, out of time and out of context. It wasn’t lonely anymore, walking with Bucky, who experienced the same detachment.

And it gave him time to think, to mull over their conversation, the things Bucky had said about Loki. His friend was probably right. Bucky was the only one who seemed to get close to Loki since the demigod had moved into the Tower and gotten a place in the team. And Bucky was correct again - they didn’t treat Loki right, none of them did, not even Thor or Steve. 

Steve felt responsible for having Loki in check, and therefore he treated Loki like a bomb that could go off any minute if handled wrong, but he shouldn’t have tried to  _ handle _ Loki anyhow to begin with. He should’ve acted the same as he did with all other team members: offering leadership on the field and camaraderie off of it.

It wasn’t even a cold comfort that apparently everyone else made the same mistake. Maybe they’d just followed Steve’s footsteps.

They had all mistreated the Asgardian, and Steve would have to apologize for his part in it.

But it didn’t matter that Loki probably wasn’t a  _ bad man _ , per se, even if being a trickster was, in Steve’s opinion, on the edge of the grey part of morality, where one could so easily topple into villainous territory. That didn’t matter,  _ shouldn’t  _ matter. Firstly, punishment shouldn't ever come before the crime. Secondly, there wasn’t a single member of the Avengers team who didn’t have it in themselves to become a criminal or a villain one day. Loki wasn’t special at all in that regard - he just had a better arsenal than most to utilize for his purposes if he ever happened to step over the line.

And yet, Steve still didn’t think this could work out peacefully in the long run. Even if he  _ did _ have a crush on Loki now - did it  _ matter? _ Likely not. Because Steve  _ loved _ Iron Man - loved as a friend, sure, but also loved as a potential partner, someone to spend his life with, someone to be with romantically. And Steve  _ loved  _ Tony Stark too - even if it had less basis and was more of a long-distance admiration, he could also imagine himself living with him, waking up next to him every morning, listening to science ramblings and being the solid foundation a businessman like Tony surely needed.

He knew that these would always remain only fantasies, as he had no chance to actually confess to either of these men - since he couldn’t possibly choose between them.

Loki might have been the solution for that, as he accepted Steve with all of this, with this limitation of his heart. It might’ve been wonderful, the way Steve felt with him. But it wouldn’t be  _ fair _ to Loki, especially not in the long run, and Steve didn’t want to be unfair to him, especially after this conversation with Bucky. 

Loki deserved better than Steve, who couldn’t love him the way everyone should be loved: in absolute commitment, with a full soul and full enthusiasm, heart beating solely for and mind focused solely on Loki. Steve was sure that Loki would find someone better who could give him all of that.

Steve couldn’t give all of himself, and his whole heart to all three of them at the same time.

The Tower was already in sight when Steve spoke up, quietly but knowing that Bucky would pick it up over the rumble of the street anyway. “You’re right, Buck, I was unfair to Loki. I shouldn’t have accepted his offer in the first place. I’ll... I’ll tell him that this won’t work,” he nodded, mostly to himself, and tried not to see the theatrical motion as Bucky face-palmed next to him.

*

It didn’t go as planned.

Steve wasn’t sure why he was surprised about that - with Loki in the equation, things rarely went as planned. 

Steve was on his way to Loki’s room when Loki walked towards him in a rarely used corridor - no, he didn’t just  _ walk, _ Loki full on stalked towards Steve, hips swaying, with a predatory, determined strut. Steve swallowed, and before he had the chance to even greet the trickster, Loki was at him, pushing his shoulder with enough force that Steve stumbled backwards, Loki’s grip guiding him until he backed through a door into an unused guest room. One of the many that usually hosted the Avengers’ associates when they stayed in the Tower.

Loki didn’t let him go even in there, and Steve found himself with his back pressed to the wall, looking  _ up _ into Loki’s eyes. He rarely noticed, because Loki was so lean and slim, but he was actually taller than Steve by an inch or so, and right now Loki used all of his height to appear more powerful, his mere  _ presence  _ filling the air and demanding all of Steve’s attention.

“Loki,” Steve tried, warning in his voice, but he was shut up with Loki’s lips on his.

Steve was a weak man.

He couldn’t help it. He kissed back, everything in him twisting, blood rushing south, head suddenly spinning.

“Loki,” Steve repeated when he pulled away, but there wasn’t Loki in front of him anymore, it was Iron Man. The eyelets glowed with their eerily calming blue, and the chestplate shone as well, but there were no gauntlets on the hands that gripped Steve’s upper arms with unmistakable force.

“Shut up,” Loki said in Iron Man’s voice. “You want it. I can feel your lust.”

And Steve could argue; he could confess that it wasn’t just  _ lust _ _,_ but that wouldn’t help his case at all. He moaned, helpless, as Loki cupped his groin, his movements gentle despite the force behind them, as he started to massage his balls, and Steve found his hands wandering to the armored back, his nails making a very quiet noise as they scratched the metal plates. Steve always feared it would be an unpleasant sound, like nails on chalkboard, but it wasn’t anything like that. It was clear instead, almost musical.

Steve was probably biased, though.

“We need to talk,” Steve tried, breathless.

“After,” the other said. Somehow, the voice was mixed - Steve still heart Iron Man’s voice, but also Loki’s, and he wasn’t sure it was the illusion failing or just  _ him _ wishing to hear it that way. If his vivid imagination added it to the scene they were in, an overlap of the tangible reality that wasn’t real, with what Steve knew to be the truth. “I’m just helping you out, Captain.”

Steve’s hand slipped and found Loki’s groin as well (the armor magically disappearing under his touch), and the obvious interest there. “It seems I’m helping you out as well,” he remarked, and - and the lower half of the faceplate disappeared as well, and Loki was  _ smirking _ , and it was Loki’s mouth, Steve was sure - Loki didn’t fully change into Iron Man’s shape. Now that Steve payed attention, he realized that nothing in the trickster changed just the armor, not his height, not his built, not his muscles… 

So he was touching Loki, Loki’s body, without illusions? Steve wasn’t sure, but the mere thought fueled his arousal more. 

“Drop the disguise,” he heard himself saying, and Loki’s movements faltered.

“No.” The rest of the armor remained in place. 

Steve wasn’t clear-headed enough to argue, to persuade Loki. Fine. If the trickster wanted to play like this, fine.

Deep down Steve knew it wouldn’t last, anyway. They wouldn’t do this ever again, not after the  _ talk _ _._ Steve sighed and gave himself over to the sensation of a talented hand on his balls, to the feeling of being  _ wanted _ _,_ whether it was real or not. Just this once, he didn’t want to talk.

“Fuck me,” he groaned after a particularly good squeeze, and Loki - Loki was - what the hell. 

Loki had dropped to his knees. “I have a different idea.”

On zip, and cool air hit Steve’s dick for a moment, but then Loki licked the tip of it, and Steve needed all his strength to keep standing and not let his trembling knees go out from under himself.

“Jesus.”

“Should I be offended that you drag that fella here as well?” Loki asked, faked innocence in his voice - it wasn’t Iron Man’s at all now, even though the upper half of the helmet was still covering his face. 

“I want to touch your hair,” Steve said instead of answering. He wouldn’t admit out loud, but he had stared a lot at Loki’s hair lately - the raven-black locks that seemed so perfect all the time, even disheveled or sweaty. And they were long, long enough to have a  _ perfect _ grip on them, and Steve grabbed them now as the fake helmet disappeared from Loki, feeling the silkyness under his fingertips.

Loki opened his mouth and slowly took Steve’s cock in, lips closing around the girth.

Steve pressed Loki closer, guiding him with his grip in the Asgardian’s hair, and let out a loud moan when Loki swallowed his whole length with ease.

“Jesus,” Steve repeated, “Loki.”

This time Loki didn’t flinch, didn’t pull back. He started to move instead, slow and sensual, bobbing his head and giving him just enough sensation to drive Steve mad, steadying himself with both hands on Steve’s hips.

“Loki,” Steve repeated, breathless, as if trying the name on his lips - it felt both right and wrong at the same time. Steve couldn’t forget about Iron Man and couldn’t forget about Tony Stark either, even while he was getting the best blowjob of his life from Loki, and it made the experience sour. He tried to divert his thoughts and emotions, but couldn’t - he felt like cheating on two people who didn’t even know Steve had feelings for them. But at the same time, Loki was perfect - sweet where it mattered and bossy when he had to be, taking the lead with just enough confidence that it irked Steve in the best possible ways, and giving Steve exactly what he needed to momentarily forget his guilt.

And Steve didn’t mind any of that. He liked it, liked it very, very much, he wanted Loki to continue, to be himself, to turn Steve’s world upside down. He wanted Loki.

Not the illusions. Not what he could give with his shapeshifting ability.

Steve wanted Loki. With his quirks and smirks and his attitude and his…

He wanted Loki, as well as he wanted Tony Stark, as well as he wanted Iron Man.

“Come on, Rogers,” Loki whispered, “just enjoy it.”

Steve obeyed. He didn’t hold back his moans and  _ dear God _ the things Loki was able to do with his tongue. Steve wasn’t sure how people survived this. Steve wasn’t sure how he wasn’t dead and in heaven, and what he had done to deserve such a treatment.

When he came, he managed to keep quiet, not saying any names this time. He had learned his lesson - and this time, he wanted to reciprocate the favor he was getting, even if his abilities were nothing compared to Loki’s.

They were panting softly for a few seconds while Steve was climbing down from his high, both hands tangled in Loki’s hair while Loki held Steve’s slowly softening dick in his mouth. 

His legs were shaking, and he let his head fall back to the wall with a quiet thud.

Then he tugged at the hair gently, and Loki followed the guidance, Steve’s dick slipping out as Loki leaned back and looked up.

“Now it’s your turn,” Steve stated, and Loki’s eyes widened, the illusion of the half-assembled Iron Man suit still embracing his body, 

“What are you--?” Loki started, but Steve was already pulling Loki up and twirling them around, so now the god was backwards to the wall, and Steve dropped to his knees in front of him.

Steve smirked, looking up only when he heard Loki choking on a breath. “What, you thought I wouldn’t reciprocate the favor?” It was easier to hide his insecurities behind the sass. He wasn’t nearly as good or as practiced in this as Loki. His offering wasn’t anywhere near to what he received, but it was eager and honest, at least. Steve wanted to do this, and he hoped that Loki could see it in his eyes, could hear it in his voice. Loki was supposed to be the God of Lies; he should know when someone  _ wasn’t _ lying, right?

Despite their previous encounter, it was the first time Steve got a good look at Loki’s dick, and was a bit relieved to see it wasn’t any different than a human one. Loki was slightly smaller than Steve - which was usually the case, well, the serum hadn’t only made muscles bigger - but had an adorable curved shape and the perfect girth. 

Steve sucked the whole length into his mouth in one go.

Loki hit the wall in surprise. “Fuck!”

Steve blinked up in fake innocence, but of course his mouth was busy so he couldn’t make a comment.

Steve wasn’t exactly practiced, but he was determined and thorough. He made sure to lick every inch of Loki, to push his face in until he fought his gag reflex back, and inhale the scent of sex as deep as he could, to pay attention to Loki’s balls just as much as he did to the dick. He wasn’t practiced, but he was creative, trying out different tongue movements and bobbing his head in all directions, looking for signs of Loki’s pleasure - quiet moans and soft sighs, aborted movements and half-finished grips for Steve’s hair or shoulder.

He didn’t grab Steve, he didn’t guide his movements, but Steve figured he could try things out on his own as well. And Loki didn’t have the slightest protests. It was basically a farewell gift, after all. Breakup sex, even though they hadn’t been in a relationship to begin with, but still the phrase felt fitting.

When Loki’s body stiffened and his breath caught, Steve kept going, and soon enough the sour-yet-sweet taste of the Asgardian’s orgasm was filling his mouth. Steve stilled, waiting for Loki to ride his pleasure as he wanted, and swallowed the come only after, pulling back and licking a drop from the corner of his mouth.

Steve sat back on his heels, sighing, both satisfied by the experience and sad because it was over.

It was wonderful. It was the best blowjob he had ever got, or given. (Probably.  _ Jury’s out _ , as Stark usually said.)

Steve sighed again, this time with more sadness, steadying himself for the inevitable. It… wasn’t fair to  _ Loki _ to keep going like this. “We need to talk,” Steve repeated himself - and he saw the way Loki’s expression closed up. It promised to be the hardest talk ever, and Steve didn’t feel himself prepared, but it was the  _ right _ thing to do. He couldn’t go the easier way just because that was easier. That’s not who Steve was, and not who he wanted to be.

“Alright,” Loki said, and the illusion of the armor disappeared from his body, replaced by his usual clothes. He seemed a bit less put together than usual. “Talk, then.”


	6. Tony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are things that Tony Stark can handle. 
> 
> Hearing that one of his crushes might also have a crush on him is probably not among those things. 
> 
> Accidentally eavesdropping on his crushes' conversation, while they look disheveled, and hearing the words _love_ and _Iron Man_ in the same sentence is _definitely_ not something he can handle.

Tony didn’t plan to eavesdrop at all. It was an accident, really. He and Bucky had agreed to install a listening device in the metal arm. That device shouldn’t have been activated by anything or anyone else but Bucky. If everything went according to plan, it could function as a panic button and homing beacon at once. If Bucky ever got captured again, he just had to start the device, and it would send GPS coordinates to the team plus live audio feed so the Avengers would know for sure what they were up against.

It was brilliant as a plan.

What Tony didn’t expect was to find the audio feed playing when he walked into his workshop after a stressful meeting with Stark Resilience’s information security team (they were wonderful young minds, but sometimes they made Tony feel so old).

Tony knew for a fact that Bucky couldn’t be kidnapped - first, it was his lunch date with Steve, and if anyone had tried to take Bucky when Steve was present, that would make the national news with blaring alarms and plenty of (bad guy) victims to report about; second, the conversation Tony overheard was with Steve.

Of course Tony recognized his voice. He had spent maybe a few too many nights fantasizing about the Captain’s husky voice whispering dirty things into his ear while Tony’d had his fingers wrapped around his cock and jerked himself off. (It wasn’t a problem. The problem would’ve been if he couldn’t keep it in his pants while he had other things to do. But he could. He just spent his very small amount of free time constantly jerking off, his fantasies starring either Steve or Loki. (Or, in some notable times, both of them.) That was totally normal among friendly teammates, right?)

Okay, so it wasn’t a kidnapping and/or capturing situation. The problem was, Tony didn’t have a remote off-switch for the listening device. It was by Bucky’s request - the bug should be controlled by him and only him, no bypasses, no codes to override, nor anything of the sort. Tony had respected that wish - if anyone, Barnes had every right and reason to need this guarantee of privacy while he agreed to have a literal spying device built into his body.

He stumbled to his computer, trying to push buttons and overwrite the coding, but it was - goddamnit, it was his own security, and he didn’t include loopholes in it for a reason, Bucky deserved his wish to be respected - and now he was struggling to turn it off.

Then it hit him.

He heard his own name from the audio feed.

While he started to work even harder, fingers flying frantically over the keyboard as he tried to find a command that would work, he couldn’t help but listen _ . _

_ “...will bleed out once with how much he cares. Then there’s Tony Stark. He’s not only the most handsome fella with a perfect bubble butt, though I might admit those are wonderful treats too, but also he’s how all billionaires should be.”  _

Tony couldn’t make it stop. It was up to Bucky to stop the transmission. But  _ why _ on Earth was Steve talking like  _ this ? _

_ “He’s the opposite of greedy, he’s so ready to make the world a better place with every asset he has…” _

Tony realized that he was a horrible idiot.

“Mute, Jarvis!” he barked out, and silence fell over the workshop.

Tony slumped back against the table and let out a shaky sigh in the sudden silence, his heartbeat feeling impossibly loud.

He couldn’t stop the transmission, but he had full control over his own sound system. He could’ve done this from the first moment, if he hadn’t panicked over the fact that the listening device was on without it being activated.

_ (Or… was it?,_ the little devil on his shoulder whispered, _ what if Bucky activated it on purpose to let Tony listen in…  _ He shut his voice down and kicked it out of his head. Nope.)

His pulse only slowly quieted down, and he tried to take deep breaths, but they hurt too much to keep them up for long. Another curse of having an electromagnet embedded in his chest. Still, breath by breath Tony overcame his panic and started to think more clearly.

Okay. He had accidentally listened to something that wasn’t for his ears, so what? It happened all the time. He’d warn Bucky later and fix this little issue and then it wouldn’t happen ever again.

The only question was, what was he going to do with the information he’d gotten this way. Because honestly, the most shocking part wasn’t even his tech failing, it was  _ Captain America, Steve Rogers admitting he found Tony Stark attractive. _ That just wasn’t… realistic. 

Sure, of course, Tony wasn’t ugly. He was handsome, and he paid attention to his appearance. He was rich, therefore he could afford a lot of the different methods to keep himself desirable. Everyone in these social circles did that - hired consultants for exercising (Tony skipped that because, uh hello, Iron Man business, he had his workout with the Avengers, thank you very much), for eating, for skin care routine, they had personal chefs and personal assistants and personal everything optimized for them. So yeah, objectively he looked younger than his age and was still handsome. But in comparison to the pinnacle of human perfection Captain America? He might as well be a gnome.

A gnome with a perfect bubble butt, apparently.

_ Shut up, inner voice. _

Maybe he could ask Bucky about it. Would that be weird? That wouldn’t be cheating in this friendship thing, right? Bucky could say what he deemed safe to say. Maybe he could reassure Tony that he was overreacting and that the whole conversation wasn’t about what he thought it was about. After all, it was Bucky’s boyfriend they would be the topic of the conversation. Tony definitely shouldn’t read too much into a comment that came from someone in a committed relationship, right?

*

He waited till the evening to leave the workshop, where he carefully kept everything but his music on mute. Bucky deserved privacy, maybe even more than anyone else on the team. So Tony waited and then, instead of summoning Bucky to the sanctuary of the workshop, he got going to seek out Barnes.

As he padded through the Tower, which was officially still his home as well, but in reality, it was the Avengers’ mansion nonetheless, he caught a glimpse in a corridor mirror of Steve and Loki standing in an unused guest room. 

They seemed… disheveled, at best. Tony gulped seeing the birds nest on Loki’s head: that sexy as hell black hair looked exactly how Tony always imagined it would after someone ran his fingers through it and yanked the locks with a firm grip. Steve’s clothes didn't quite fit him as they usually did either.

What the… what the hell.

Were these two somehow…? Could they have been…? No. Tony couldn’t imagine Steve cheating on anyone, let alone on Bucky.

Maybe Steve had found Loki with someone? Was the Captain lecturing one of his team members about morals and manners and one-night stands?

Curiously, and because he had the impulse control of a five year old (according to Pepper, at least), Tony halted and turned to see the origin of the reflection. A door was slightly ajar; just enough so it was possible to look into the room. He took a step closer.

“I have a hard time believing that. Your slip in the end…” Loki started at that moment, but Steve cut it off.

“I’m sorry, Loki, but I can’t do this. Not like this. Not while I love...” he hesitated, and apparently decided to continue differently, “not while Iron Man is around,” Steve said, clearly and loudly enough that Tony had absolutely no excuse for mishearing it anything else. “It would be unfair to you. You deserve someone who could really love you, for you, and only you, and I would like to be that person, but I am not.”

Loki was motionless, a statue of pride, chin held up high and eyes burning with a flame that Tony saw even from this side angle. Loki seemed so ethereal and majestic at this moment, it wasn’t hard to imagine why people in the past had worshipped his kind - and him in particular. He seemed to tower over Steve, even though there was not much height difference between them, and Tony’s mouth went dry as he imagined himself inside the room, tiny compared the two giants there, and how small he’d feel between them for other reasons.

“I’m not saying I understand you, Captain Rogers,” Loki spoke, firm and unfaltering, hands clasped behind his back. “But if this is truly your decision and what your heart desires, then so be it. I won’t force myself upon anyone. I clearly can’t compete with your Golden Avenger,” he finished, and his tone became bitter like dark coffee, leaving the taste of ash and regret even in Tony’s mouth, who only heard them, not said them himself.

Tony turned around and tiptoed away, careful not to make any noise, holding his breath. He knew those two could have easily heard even just his heartbeats, if they weren’t so focused on each other, and for once Tony was extremely grateful for that.

He didn’t need to get caught on spying on any Avengers, let alone his crushes, let alone his crushes  _ who were discussing Iron Man. _ And Steve…

Tony’s mind quickly modeled the events he missed. The most probable scenario looked something like this: Loki had asked Steve out, despite Steve being taken. Loki had even started something with Steve, and Steve apparently stopped it mid-way. Because he was taken, right. Because Steve wouldn’t cheat on Bucky.

But then why mentioning...

Did Steve really  _ said _ that he  _ loved _ Iron Man? Or was Tony just imagining that?

That couldn’t be right, could it? Steve was with Bucky.

No, Steve probably meant that he loved Bucky. But then… how did Iron Man factor into this? Why bring  _ Iron Man _ up at all when being with Bucky was surely enough of a reason to stop?

Tony wasn’t sure. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t breathe.

This was too overwhelming. He could deal with a combat situation - he could process more data on the spot than a computer - he could calculate angles and flying patterns in Mach 4 even if Jarvis was offline in the suit - but this? This information felt like breaking his mind.

It just wasn’t possible.

Steve -  _ loving _ \- Iron Man?

No, that was wishful thinking. Wasn’t it?

And Tony discovering this on the same day when he had heard Steve talking about Tony Stark’s handsomeness?

This was too good to be true.

Of course, they didn’t know that Tony Stark and Iron Man were the same person to begin with. No one knew that. (Hopefully. Tony had his doubts. He was surrounded by gods and superspies; how could they  _ not _ know?)

His thoughts were haunting enough that he sped up until he was jogging down the corridor.

Tony needed someone. Tony needed a friend. He almost considered calling Rhodey, but Rhodey had said last time when they had both been drunk that Tony needed to confess his feelings before he came to whine to him again, or Rhodey would do it for him, so no. (Even if there were very little chance of him actually live up to his threat.) And Pepper was busy enough as it was.

Tony ran until he reached Bucky’s room.

He still had it in him to knock, but at the moment Bucky opened the door, he shouldered past the soldier to get into the room, already babbling. “I didn’t listen to it, I swear! I don’t even know how it happened, but I practically immediately muted it, and I had made sure that the transmission didn’t go anywhere else but to my personal channel because it’s still just the test period, and I didn’t want you to feel awkward so there’s no harm done, I promise--”

Bucky was able to grab his shoulder and keep Tony in place, instead of him pacing from wall to wall.

“Whoa, genius, hold on. I don’t have a single idea what you are talking about.”

Tony got out of the grip by lowering himself into a squat, leaning his back to the side of the bed and wrapping his arms around his knees. It was uncomfortable, the ARC-reactor weighing on his chest with being folded up, but it was a comforting pressure. Tony quickly ran his previous speech through his head, and picked out what key elements it had missed.

He took a relatively deep breath to the belly, and started over. “Okay. So. Listening device in your arm. Somehow it got activated. I have no idea what triggered it. It should be impossible to do by accident, so I have to look into it to prevent it in the future, but the thing is, it only broadcasted to my ‘shop and though I couldn’t stop it, I could mute it, so I barely heard anything. Of your conversation. With Steve. Just like, two or three sentences. So no harm done,” he repeated that last sentence like a lifeline, hoping that Bucky wouldn’t be too mad at him.

Bucky stared at him for a few heartbeats, then slowly nodded. “Okay. If you say you’ll fix it. I trust you,” he stated, and with those words, he crouched down in front of Tony to get into eye level again. “But why are you looking like you’ve seen a ghost?”

Tony cleared his throat, clenched and unclenched his fist. That was harder to talk about, harder to explain. Maybe impossibly hard - Tony wasn’t the type to just spill his emotions all over the place. When he seemingly had done in the past, it had always been part of a carefully constructed and admirably well done fake scene. An act to keep the journalist hyenas at bay or to draw attention away from something else. It had always worked like a charm.

And it wasn’t even just his emotions, but the situation itself as well. This time he was in real crisis over the things he had heard, and the things that might or might not imply about Steve and Bucky’s relationship, and for a few moments of panic, he was sure his throat would lock up, and he wouldn’t be able to utter a single word.

But then…

“I love them,” he blurted, and felt his face heating up. This was probably the  _ worst _ possible thing he could’ve started with. “Both of them. It sucks.”

Bucky’s eyebrows flew to the top of his forehead. “Who?”

“And Ste- Captain Rogers called me handsome when he was talking to you.” Tony felt mortified to admit that, but now that he had started, he wasn’t sure he could stop. Was it normal for couples to talk about other people they found attractive? Tony wasn’t sure, he didn’t have much experience with relationships to begin with.

Bucky’s expression morphed into something surprised. Tony wouldn’t call it shocked - he doubted the Winter Soldier had that in his facial expression arsenal - but Tony saying this wasn’t something Bucky expected.

“You heard that, huh? What else?”

“Nothing, I swear! Well. Except that remark about my perfect bubble butt, and let me tell you, I’m having a complete mental meltdown about that right here and now again because oh my god. But other than that, nothing.”

“Hm,” Bucky said.

“But then, when I was coming here, I came across a conversation, and I didn’t  _ try _ to listen to it, but they weren’t exactly quiet so I heard and - and St-- Captain Rogers said that he  _ loves Iron Man  _ and oh my god.”

Bucky made a noncommittal humming noise and reached out to caress Tony’s arm through his sweater. It felt nice. Comforting. Tony slipped closer to the contact.

“I mean it’s just, I can’t even. Stark.exe has stopped working. My mind can’t bear this information. I have had crushes on two people for a while now and I handled it  _ fine _ until this but now one of my crushes basically confessed to you that he has a crush on me as well and  _ it’s Captain America, but he loves Iron Man, but he’s taken,  _ what is happening?”

Tony was rambling, incoherent and high-pitched as his anxiety and panic took over. He remembered only belatedly that Bucky didn’t even know he was Iron Man - not even Rhodey knew, only Pepper - and for a brief, crazy moment Tony considered confessing it.

But he got a hold on himself before he could do such a stupid thing. No one should know he was Iron Man - that would ruin the perfect reputation his superhero persona had. Iron Man was known as a good man and a good teammate, while Tony was… well, he wasn’t. Not at all. 

No, Iron Man’s identity should remain a secret as it always had been. 

It was just a simple anxiety attack - Tony had plenty of those in the past as well, and wouldn’t do any good to reveal anything to Bucky. Tony could deal with this. 

And Bucky stroking his hand and offering some comfort definitely helped. “So what’s the matter? Maybe you should approach Stevie as well, now that you have some info that it wouldn’t be unwelcome.”

“What? No. I’m not a homewrecker, I’d never start something with anyone who was already taken.”

Bucky blinked several times. “Steve? Taken?”

“Well, duh,” Tony rolled his eyes, “it’s not exactly a secret, you know.”

Now it was Bucky who seemed confused for a second, then he bit his lower lip. “I thought you didn’t notice. You never showed it, at least.”

Tony waved his hand, not wanting Bucky to feel bad about his relationship. (He would never want them to feel like they obliged anything to Tony, it was their  _ lives _ and their  _ love _ and it was obvious, whether historians wanted to admit or not.) He wanted Bucky to know that Tony was supporting them, regardless of his stupid crush - what mattered was that Steve and Bucky were happy.

Before he could state of that, though, his thoughts circled back to the scene he had witnessed. Bucky said that if he approached Steve, it wouldn’t be unwelcome, but Tony doubted that. He chewed on his lip. Even if he didn’t count the whole ‘Steve’s in a happy relationship’ problem, which was  _ definitely _ not something Tony wanted to change, he couldn’t forget that Steve - did Tony even read that right? - had rejected  _ Loki, _ Loki himself.

Tony stood no chance where Loki didn’t, either.

Even if Steve wasn’t already taken, that is.

“He’s taken. Plus he loves Iron Man. He said so,” Tony said, throat tightening around the words.

Bucky leveled him with a long and expectant look. “I don’t see where’s the problem with that,” Bucky finally said after the silence stretched too long.

On one hand, Tony could agree with Bucky. After all, he  _ was _ Iron Man. Technically. In theory. Whatever.

On the other hand… no one knew that.

“You’d be okay with that?” Tony asked, incredulous, to win some time.

Bucky shrugged. “Believe me, I have not the slightest objection to the idea either. Never had.”

Okay. Tony filed that away for later consideration, his poor heart and poor brain could only bear so much at the moment. Apparently Steve and Bucky didn’t mind  _ cheating on each other? _ Something didn’t add up, but Tony was too wound up to muse on it and disentangle the threads.

“He refused-- uh, someone because of… because of his feelings,” Tony said instead.

Tony surely didn’t ever act like Iron Man, and Iron Man never acted the way Tony Stark would either. They were different, in many senses of the word, and even if Tony were ready to confess - to tell Steve that he was Iron Man as well - it would probably just make everything worse.

Steve, who was so honest all the time, probably couldn’t bear the knowledge that the truth was kept from him for so long. Steve would feel betrayed - and rightfully so. Tony and Iron Man had been lying to his face by not telling the truth. Maybe it was less of a problem with Tony, since he wasn’t close friends with Steve, but Iron Man…

No, that wouldn’t be forgiven so easily.

So Tony was royally fucked.

He sighed, and decided to again do what he was best at: look away from the disaster of his personal life and bury himself in work instead, hoping that the problems would go away if he ignored them hard enough.

Tony sighed again to calm his nerves and unfolded his hands, reaching for Bucky’s metal arm. “Anyway, I actually came to investigate that naughty listening device.”

Bucky seemed pained for a moment, but then his expression smoothed out. “A’right, Tony. If you want to.”

Of course he wanted to.

Tony’s breathing finally calmed down to normal while he tinkered with the arm, thoughts still in an uproar, but he knew he just needed a few hours like this, in his element, and that would be better as well. Not perfect - such repeated shocks like today couldn’t be forgotten that easily, not to mention all the  _ implications _ that came with them - but he could go back to being a functional person again. Which he needed. Iron Man needed to be focused if the Avengers were needed.

But soon enough Tony had to notice that Bucky wasn’t entirely present, also lost in his thoughts. It took only an hour for Bucky to gently put his hand on Tony’s. “Sorry. I’ll be back soon, but there is another conversation that’s waiting for me.” His eyes were eager and truly apologetic as Tony’s shoulders slumped down.

“Sure, Terminator.” He forced a smile on his face. He haven’t managed to find the issue yet, and he knew himself enough that he wouldn’t have any peace of mind until he figured it out. “I can image you two have a lot to discuss. I’ll be in the workshop if you’re ready for more tinkering, okay?”

Bucky smiled back, sad at the edges. “You can bet I’ll be there soon,” he promised, squeezing Tony’s hand. “Go and save the world in the meantime.”

Yeah, well. Tony had a lot of projects.  _ His  _ world falling apart could definitely wait until he single-handedly solved the global climate change crisis or something. Sure.


	7. Loki

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To those who wondered if you'll get a conversation between Bucky and Loki as well: here you are.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the slight delay of this chapter, real life got real crazy in the last week, but now I'll be back on track :)

Loki had a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad week.

It wasn’t enough that the fun that had started ss a simple sexual encounter with the dear Captain had turned out to have a disastrous ending. After that, he made things worse with Stark, too - and he knew that, he got glimpses of the man’s hopelessness through his feelings. Finally, after that wonderful blowjob that had made Loki  _ hope _ for more, they had a discussion with Rogers as well - and that. Fucking. Idiot. Rejected. Loki.

He was very polite and apologetic about it, of course but he was also outright, straightforward. No more sex, no more encounters. Definitely no - as mortals phrased it - dating Loki.

That fool. Who many people would have  _ killed _ for a chance in a God’s bed, which Rogers refused, like it was nothing.

And since that conversation an hour or so ago, Loki was seething.

Barnes, as if sensing his bad mood, showed up in the library and made himself comfortable in one of the plush armchairs, watching in silence as Loki paced from shelf to shelf with three long, determined strides, stomped his heels on the carpet to turn, then started over.

“You look like a kid that lost their favorite toy,” Bucky observed after a while. Loki leveled him with a stern glare.

The soldier smirked back. 

Loki halted, and took a better look. It wasn’t  _ entirely _ Barnes. He had days - the team called them bad ones, but Loki disagreed with that adjective on principle - when his former assassin self took full or at least partly over.

Loki liked Bucky the most when the latter happened. Bucky, as default, alone in himself, was good company, and he spent most of the time as this one. The Soldier, when fully in control, was kind of boring. Too predictable and too dependent. But the mixture of the two personalities was certainly the most… interesting. Most dangerous. 

Most entertaining to be around.

And it seemed that Bucky had this mixed personality on the forefront often when Loki was in a bad mood. Loki knew for a fact it wasn’t a coincidence, but he just lately started to wonder if Barnes allowed his other half to partially take control because he knew Loki liked it, or the other way around, and Loki’s bad mood brought the soldiering out.

“I have no patience for your insults, mortal,” Loki said, indignant.

The smile didn’t widen, but didn’t falter either. “I’m just wondering about your next step. Once you’re done with the sulky act, of course.”

Loki scowled. “There is no next step, Barnes.” Loki lowered his mental defenses, and took a brief glance toward the other, sensing around in the forefront of mortal’s consciousness. It was a fascinating place: both the most guarded and the most vulnerable mind Loki’d had the pleasure to see. Some of Bucky’s defenses were even stronger than Thor’s, while other parts were completely uncovered: open nerves and open wounds - some of them still bleeding.

Loki didn’t poke those. Didn’t try to look deeper. Barnes basically offered up the information anyway: echo of conversations, not the actual content of discussions, more like a summary of them, a brief glance on Bucky’s knowledge gained from them.

“You already know that Rogers refused any further… companionship.”

“Yes. And?”

Loki huffed and threw himself down into another armchair. He was satisfied to realize that even when he was in this state, he was more graceful than the Midgardians.

“No  _ ‘and’, _ James.” He never called him Bucky when he wasn’t entirely Bucky. “It’s a matter of principle and dignity. I certainly won’t  _ beg _ for anyone to accept my offers. It was within the cards that it would be a one-time opportunity. It’s his loss.”

“You haven’t made any offers to Stark yet, though,” Barnes noted matter of factly, and Loki would’ve tripped on his feet if he weren’t seated already. James shrugged. “I know you.”

Loki, for once, wasn’t sure what to say.

“You are more subtle than Steve, but I am a sniper. I notice things.”

Loki inhaled a sharp breath as he realized what Barnes could mean. He moved his fingers, and threw a spell around themselves, to make listening into their conversation impossible. 

“Like you’ve noticed that Stark and Iron Man are the same person.”

It wasn’t intoned as a question, but James nodded. “I mean, it’s hard to  _ miss. _ I’m sure most people around us know, they just never voice it. Or if not, then I’ll be disappointed in them.”

Loki didn’t say a word to that. Before his transformation, he didn’t notice either, or just hadn’t paid enough attention.

“You know, it’s just an idea,” James started, “but it might move your case further ahead if you… dared to show yourself for real.”

Loki rolled his eyes again.

“Come on, James. I don’t expect such romanticized idiocy from you.”

“I am serious. The way you’re with me… or with Bucky, I suppose,” there was a little shrug, “you never allow yourself to be as relaxed with them.”

“And there’s a good reason for it.”

Barnes tilted his head.

“The great Loki admits that they’re afraid?”

He scowled again. “I’m not your dear Captain, I won’t fall for mocking or challenges.”

James didn’t seem upset. “It was worth a try.”

Silence fell again, but it was the comfortable quiet of camaraderie. After a few minutes, Barnes even tilted his head back, exposing his throat, and closed his eyes. Loki stared at him openly, not bothering to hide his interest - they were alone, after all.

“Why you?” Loki finally asked. Barnes blinked at him with cracking only one eye open. Loki clarified. “Why are you here and not Bucky?”

Just as Barnes was the only one who knew about Loki’s actually preferred pronouns, Loki was the only one who treated these different personas as separate people. Others encouraged Bucky to make himself whole again. Loki knew better. Some hurts left marks that couldn’t be undone.

“Bucky is tired of your shit,” James answered with a slight grin, “needed a break. I substitute for a few hours.”

“And, conveniently, can talk to me.”

“Confirmed.”

It was an interesting information. “Why is he tired?”

Barnes sat up straighter and gave Loki a  _ look. _ “Try to spend time with Stark, Rogers, and you for a few days, and you’ll see.” And there was a muttering too quiet and muffled for even Loki’s ear to pick it up clearly, but people, even James, tended to forget he had  _ magic. _ And it meant some tricks up his sleeve. Making himself hear the words was just a tiny one of them.  _ “Oblivious, pining idiots.” _

Hm.

Loki composed a snarky remark in his head that would address this statement without actually revealing that he listened in on Barnes, but before he could say it out loud, there was a crashing sound and then sirens started to wail with red flashing lights.

Loki felt himself scowl harder than any time before that day. “Oh come on,  _ now _ of all times?!”

Of course, villains didn’t care about their timing. If anything, they rejoiced in ruining the Avengers’ plans for the day. Loki usually could sympathize with that; even now that he was supposed to be part of the team.

Barnes, even more eager than Bucky, was on his feet in an instant. Loki did the same much less enthusiastically and much more slowly. He stretched his back like he had the whole universe at his disposal, and didn’t let himself be bothered by the Midgardian’s glare.

Once he was done, he sighed, put his arms down and nodded. “Alright, alright, I know. I’m coming.”

Barnes smiled, sharp and predatory, and his stance was different from Bucky’s, too. “This will be fun,” he stated.

*

It wasn’t fun.


	8. Steve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I know you've waited for this. It's finally happening, guys!
> 
> Steve faces his feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These Cabal characters are mostly inspired by the one in Avengers Assemble season one, mixed with Hood from Marvel's Puzzle Quest game, because I was too lazy to introduce/reintroduce the whole cartoon villain branch (M.O.D.O.K., Hammer, etc.). If you're unfamiliar with the cartoon/game, don't worry. You don't need to know them, it's just an added flavor if you do.

Captain America was called the Man With A Plan, and for a reason. Steve was a good enough tactician, and he had spent endless days and nights discussing possible scenarios with Iron Man, Nick Fury, and other people who occasionally joined the three of them. They had contingency plans for contingency plans, and Plan Cs for failed Plan Bs. He had world maps and street structures of bigger cities memorized, he trained with every member of his team individually and together, pairing them up on different rotations so they could move like a well oiled machine when it was necessary, so they could predict each others’ movements even if the comms went down. He studied present threats and past attacks over and over again to find weak spots and openings to hit back.

And still, with all those preparations, sometimes situations just went south faster than they could react.

It seemed like a usual hissy fit from Attuma at first. Beating some of the Atlanteans back into the ocean from New York wasn’t neither unusual nor hard for the assembled Avengers.

But then Doctor Doom and his Doombots showed up, which, again, wouldn’t have been a problem on its own.

Except the Doombots and the Atlanteans started to work together like they had also practiced together, and _that _ started to be worrisome.

That was the point when Steve directed the Avengers to form groups, to hold the attackers off together. They were better fighters and better team workers, despite being outnumbered.

Then the Hood showed up with his foot soldiers (was it the Hand or the Maggia or something else he took over this time? Steve didn’t even have the time to investigate) and Red Skull with Hydra agents as well.

With this overwhelming numerical superiority from this so-called Cabal supervillain unity, the Avengers had a really, really challenging time.

Captain America didn’t waver and didn’t fall back. “We can do this,” he said through his comms, voice confident, even when he had to punch out opponents while he arranged his team, “Pair up. Soldier and Hawkeye, parcel the field between you two, give cover fire to everyone where necessary. Iron Man, Falcon, stay in the air as long as you can and take out their flyers. Stay on defense. If you can, focus on the Doombots. Thor, go with Hulk and make sure to wreak havoc with as little property damage as possible. Stay within the perimeters, keep civilians safe at all costs. You’re our strike unit, priority are the Atlanteans. Widow, you go with Loki. Trick them, confuse them, scatter them with any means you two have. Focus on the humans, give them hell of a time. SHIELD agents are on perimeters to pick off anyone who tries to reach further or escape, but let’s make their night boring.”

Multiple confirmations came through the comms one by one, and it was Loki who instead asked, _“And where are you going to be, Captain?”_

Steve didn’t know if he should feel the warmth by the question, but he did. Shit.

_ “He’ll play tank like always,”_ Iron Man answered, with fake cheer in his voice. _“Right, winghead?”_

Steve grinned and hurled his shield at three Hydra agent who fell like a ninepins dummies as the weapon ricocheted between them.

“Well, we have plenty of foot soldiers down here, shellhead,” he answered, heart in his throat and not because of the activity. “Someone has to entertain them as well.”

*

Steve… might have a problem.

A problem shaped like a charming billionaire, an Armored Avenger and a Norse Trickster God.

For once, Tony Stark was the least of his problems, because thank God he was safe somewhere far away from the current fight, probably dealing with his everyday problems like managing his huge and successful business. Steve was grateful for that. At least  _ one _ out of the three was safe. He shouldn’t even think about Mr. Stark in the middle of the battle, at all, but the conversation he’d had with Loki earlier was still fresh in his mind, a distracting buzz under his skin. Because he was as honest with Loki as he could be and admitted his feelings for Tony Stark - stating how wrong it had been from Loki to use both forms in any way without proper agreement first - and for Iron Man. He even confessed, for the first time out loud, that he  _ loved _ Iron Man.

It didn’t mean that Steve didn’t love Tony Stark, just that he still wasn’t sure of that. His feelings were not less strong for Tony, but they had way less common ground to begin with. Steve wanted to believe in  _ love at first sight, _ and if that truly existed, then Tony Stark was his living example. But Steve was more down to earth than to let himself fully believe in that phenomenon. What he had with Iron Man was more solid. It bloomed from companionship in the field and time spent together off of it, it had the foundations of a friendship that could, potentially, turn into something more.

And with Loki, well… that wasn’t only lust either. Loki had so much more depth than he usually let people in on, and the glimpses Steve had into that depth made him crave more. He wanted to  _ know _ Loki. He wanted to be lost in him. He wanted to…

A punch in his face reminded Steve that all he should really want in that moment was to focus on the fight.

_ “Cap!” _

He fell to the ground and rolled away from the following kick, getting enough distance to get on his feet with ringing ears.

_ “Rogers!” _

Some of the Doombots apparently joined forces with the Hydra agents and boy, those metal fists were able to land a punch. 

_ “Steve!” _

Steve sniffled an inhale through his broken nose, trying to ignore the blood on his lips, as he threw himself into the fray again. “ ‘M fine,” he grumbled to his mic nasally. “Earn your keep, Avengers.”

He didn’t need worried teammates at his throat even before the end of the battle. He just demonstrated himself how distractions worked against people. That’s why he didn’t go with Iron Man this time, or with Loki.

It was hard -  _ dodge a robot  _ \- to focus -  _ slide in under a raised arm and land a hit _ \- on the fight  _ \- sidestep a stab and use the attacker as a human shield from the baddies with guns  _ \- as it was.

Steve ended the squadron and started to jog toward the corner of the street. His nose stopped bleeding, but given how hard breathing still was, Steve figured the doctors would have to break it again to resettle it. Ignoring this, he stuck his hand up in the air. “Falcon, I need a lift.” There was a confirmation over the comm, and before he could reach the corner, he heard the sound of the mechanical wings gliding through the air with his own ears. 

Steve usually asked this from Iron Man, but right now he wasn’t sure it would be wise to risk being close to him. Steve was still too unsettled, even with the fight helping to focus and ground himself. The last thing  _ anyone _ needed was Steve to do something stupid like confess his love to Iron Man in the heat of the battle. Even the Hydra agents would be scarred for life after that.

Falcon, the newest addition to the team with Tony Stark’s and War Machine’s stellar recommendations to back him up, could do the job just as well.

Well, sort of as well. Falcon grunted and nearly dropped Steve, their clasped hands sliding an inch before the flyer managed to secure his grip. “Jesus, Cap, you’re even heavier than usual,” he grumbled.

Steve didn’t correct him that none of their practices in the gym had involved their hands being bloody and therefore slippery, which was an oversight on Steve’s part.

“Yeah,” he agreed instead, “had a big breakfast.” 

Falcon chuckled. “Where to, Cap?”

“Drop me down on a high roof, I need to look at how we stand.”

Falcon did as ordered, and landed next to Steve as well, leaning on his knees and taking deep breaths. Steve let him have a moment while he stood and observed the field, his eyes spotting his teammates with practiced ease. (Not like it was hard - he just had to look for the big trouble, and there they were.) His glance swept through the streets, from one perimeter SHIELD had quickly set up to the other, the civilians cleared out from the zone as thoroughly as possible with the given circumstances. Steve counted allies and enemies, recalculating strategies and possibilities in his head, managing to focus right until…

His eyes got glued to the sky.

Loki was  _ flying. _

Well, not flying. He was… floating? Sort of. His hands conjured up lights and magic faster than Steve could track it, his green-and-gold cape waving around his form. Iron Man was circling him in the air, repulsor beams coming from his palms and occasionally from his chest, keeping the enemies at bay as best as he could while Loki was doing his thing.

It was more beautiful than a perfectly choreographed dance; their harmony evident; science and magic triumphing over everything thrown at it with ease. If Loki was focused on his lights and casting, Iron Man was there; and when Iron Man happened to seem overwhelmed by the sheer number of robots trying to swarm him, Loki’s magic backed him up, fending the attackers off, slicing into them, disintegrating them. Sometimes it was violent, tearing them apart, and sometimes looked like a simple, soft touch of light that made them fall like rocks.

Steve watched, mesmerized, with breath held.

“Ehm,” Falcon cleared his throat right next to him, and Steve didn’t jump only because he had practice repressing sudden jerks. “You done?” 

Falcon sounded way more sarcastic than he should, or so Steve thought at least. If Steve blushed, well, it was hidden behind his face generally being red because of the fight, and the cowl on his head.

He managed not to blurt out an order to take him up to Loki’s and Iron Man’s side. An order like that would make literally zero sense tactically. Steve couldn’t fly, he would only be a hindrance in the aerial aspect of the battle for whoever would carry him. His shield would be mostly useless, and he didn’t carry many weapons beside it.

Besides this, Loki and Iron Man were a  _ stellar _ and effective team. They handled everything.

They handled it beautifully.

Steve had no place up there. Not with them.

“Come on, Captain,” Falcon put a palm on Steve’s shoulders, while he covered his mic with his other hand. “Quit staring and focus, okay?”

Shit, his teammate was absolutely right.

“Yeah,” he agreed hoarsely, and glanced back at the pair one more time.

His blood froze cold.

Iron Man was busy with quite a few opponents, his back to one more Doombot sneaking up behind him. All of Loki’s magical lights were destroying enemies left and right. They were all out of his hands; his palms empty. Steve could see, like in slow motion, that Loki noticed the situation almost at the same moment - how close the enemy was to Iron Man’s unprotected back, how Loki had no more weapons in his hand to stop the attack from happening. How no one else was close enough either - even if they yelled in the comm, Iron Man couldn’t turn around, couldn’t turn his back to his other opponents threatening his front.

It was just a flash, but it felt like an eternity. Steve couldn’t decipher the emotions on Loki’s face - even with his enhanced senses, he was too far for that - but he saw the exact fraction of a second when determination settled in.

Loki was gone.

The same moment, Loki reappeared out of thin air, right behind Iron Man, back pressed to back.

Steve gasped.

The Doombot stabbed with its bladed hand, but instead of Iron Man, it hit Loki.

Loki’s muffled grunt was the only sound Steve heard through the comms - it was likely no one else but him witnessed the moment.

Loki, his face calm and empty and  _ cold, _ touched the forehead of the Doombot, and frost bloomed over the metal skin of the machine. It went limp and fell down, yanking out the blade from Loki’s torso as it dove.

This time, Loki grunted for real.

“Loki?” Bucky asked through the comms, almost sounding surprised.

Steve had thought he wanted to keep Iron Man safe at all cost. He’d thought that he wanted everyone, including his teammates, to protect the one Steve was sure he loved.

But witnessing this, he realized he was wrong. 

He wouldn’t want to sacrifice one teammate for the safety of another, and he  _ definitely _ never wanted to see Loki getting hurt in the process of protecting Iron Man. Loki’s pained gasp was as torturous to hear as it would’ve been to hear Iron Man’s. There was no ranking, no difference.

Steve loved them.

Both of them.

He couldn’t choose between them, not if his life depended on it. 

Steve wasn’t sure when, or how that happened, but it was finally clear now.

Iron Man also noticed the sound, finished his share of robots and turned around.

Loki was bleeding.

“Falcon,” Steve ordered. “Up and assist.” 

Falcon obeyed, and Steve was unable to do anything but watch. They’d need another flyer to help those two, Loki’d need medical attention, it was…

“I’m fine, Iron Man,” Loki snapped, but blood was pouring from his wound so steadily that it started to rain under him, and he even sounded pained.

“You’re not,” the modulated voice was almost calm in the earpiece, but Steve could also hear the fear underneath the control. The team never had seen Loki bleeding, and Iron Man, who was the closest, was  _ afraid. _

Steve’s heart skipped every second beat as he waited with breath held, following Falcon’s flight with his eyes, wishing him to get to the pair sooner, to…

_ “Watch out!” _

_ “Behind you” _

_ “Shit!” _

_ “Fuck!” _

The comms, coming alive all at once, erupted in chaos, and Steve’s eyes snapped around.

The enemies attempted one last stand, and everywhere around Steve his teammates were swarmed with Atlanteans, soldiers and Doombots. Steve, due to his position, was out of the fray, but not all of them were this lucky.

Hulk’s roar filled the air as the huge green figure broke out of a building, ignoring the robots clinging to him, and leaped with full speed to help Widow on the ground.

Thor shot straight up to the sky, and seeing that their snipers’ nest was discovered by the enemy, he changed directions to aid them.

Steve was too far away to help either of them, and he inwardly cursed himself again for not being able to do more. For not being able to fly, for not being able to shoot lasers from his eyes or whatever else would work. He could just watch, with feet rooted to the ground, giving only quiet orders and warnings given the chance, knowing all too well that even his voice could be a distraction if he spoke in the wrong moment.

His eyes inevitably returned to the sky. Doombots and Atlantean jetships also targeted Loki and Iron Man. Loki spun Iron Man around in a swift motion, and they pushed their backs to each other again to have cover from behind, and methodically finished off their opponents.

Steve watched, holding his breath. The pair was overpowered. Loki was injured. Iron Man was human. Inevitably, there was a mistake coming their way, and indeed: there was a flash of motion and a harpoon found its way through the joint of Iron Man’s armor.

Iron Man’s pained gasp sounded too loud for Steve’s ear; but Loki appeared, not out of thin air like his illusions used to, but barreling into the Atlantean from the side and plunging a dagger to the flesh of it.

“No enemy in sight,” Widow reported quietly. “We’re fine here.”

Falcon arrived in time to finish off the last of the aerial opponents while Iron Man and Loki clung to each other. 

“We’re clear as well,” Hawkeye joined in. “Mostly unharmed. Thor is a bit too charged up, he can’t go anywhere yet.”

Iron Man started to descend to the ground, shutting down the repulsors then firing them up again to stabilize their fall with only one hand. Steve wasn’t sure if he was too tired to properly land them or if his armor got damaged because of the hit, but it didn’t matter. They were coming down. Steve leaped from his spot to a fire escape, coming down from the rooftop as fast as superhumanly possible, and started to sprint to the crossroad where the pair was supposed to arrive.

Iron Man landed first, and for a few seconds they disappeared from Steve’s sight as he had to round a block. By the time he managed that, both men were laying on the ground, their comms off but as Steve finally got close enough, he heard that Loki was breathing hard, each exhale a hiss.

Steve closed the distance and was on his knees next to them in an instant.

Loki was pale, his eyes shining feverishly, but he was conscious, wrapping both arms around Iron Man’s torso as they both laid on the concrete.

Iron Man seemed dangerously limp in his embrace.

Steve reached out to touch them, to check their pulses and see what was going on, but he hesitated, hand hovering above. He knew some of the unlocking mechanisms of the armor, but not all. In his momentary hesitation, Loki growled. Steve hit the hidden mechanism that ejected the chestplate from the whole of the armor, and was relieved to see that - at least - Iron Man’s chest was rising and falling, even if too fast, as he was gasping for air, and the ARC reactor seemed intact. There were small mercies, even though the undersuit was bloody.

Iron Man moved his head, glowing eyelets meeting Steve’s gaze.

Steve froze, waiting, if the other man would give him instructions, but something must’ve gone wrong with the speaking mechanism, because only broken buzzing came from the helmet.

Loki groaned again. “I swear to the Norns!” he cursed, much to Steve’s surprise, and hit Steve’s hovering hand away. “Who cares with secret identities, surviving is more important than that!”

Before Steve could stop him, his hand danced on the suit, and upon his movements, the suit started to disassemble itself, smaller parts sliding into bigger ones, joins unlinking themselves, and the helmet furling to the nape as well.

Steve squeezed his eyes shut almost on instinct. “No,” he murmured. It was not right. Forcing someone to reveal their identity was  _ not right. _ But his mind was racing with the possibility of Iron Man being hurt,  _ really _ hurt. What if he needed help, needed medical attention, and the voice modulators were broken, and he couldn’t ask for it? What if he was choking? What if removing the mask would save him? What if? But were they allowed to make that decision for someone else, a grown man, a fellow superhero, it was…

Loki’s cold hand clasped on Steve’s nape, and someone else - he knew this voice - spoke softly, “It’s okay, winghead.”

Steve  _ knew  _ this voice.

He had maybe imagined it way too often when he had been alone.

But that…

Steve opened his eyes, and met the gaze of Tony Stark, who laid on the ground with the remaining parts of the Iron Man suit around him, and tried to smile up to Steve and Loki, both hovering above.

Steve blinked.

“Uhm,” Iron Man -  _ Tony _ \- Tony fucking Stark was Iron Man - how -  _ why _ \- since when - said, “Hi.” His voice was weak and it was shaking. “I’m sorry?”

It was so fucking funny, and Steve wasn’t sure what to make of it, how to process this information.

Loki chuckled next to him. “You should see your face,” the Asgardian said, even though  _ his _ voice didn’t have the usual strength either; he sounded tired and small.

Iron Man. And Tony Stark. Were the same fucking person.

Steve had been  _ agonizing _ over his love for two different people for  _ months _ and he was so fucking  _ stupid _ that he didn’t even realize the two people were  _ the same person. _

Steve looked from Iron-- from Tony to Loki, and then back, and forth, and back, and opened his mouth to say something - to ask something - to reassure, maybe. But what came out of mouth was,

“I love you.”

And it was true. The adrenaline still coursed in his veins, and the scare of maybe, potentially losing them, the torturous ache of seeing them hurt and not being able to do anything, the constant confusion of the last days and weeks and maybe months and years even, took their toll on Steve, and he was scared, so scared to lose them without them knowing the truth.

He loved, he loved  _ so deeply. _ And with this revelation, the whole distinction - the whole worry about loving more than one - seemed so ridiculous.  _ Why _ would it matter? His heart was big enough to have love for more than one person. The way he could love a family and a team as well, he could love others too. Maybe not the same way, but  _ love _ wasn’t measured on pharmacy scales.

“I love you both. I love you,” he repeated - heart in his throat and mouth dry, and his right hand somehow was on Tony’s chest, next to the reactor, and his left on Loki’s shoulder, fingers gripping with enough force that it would leave bruises on a human. He couldn’t lie anymore, not to himself and definitely not to these two amazing, wonderful people who he had the privilege to know to some extent.

Even if he ruined everything - even if made them run from him, even if he had no chance, even if he couldn’t choose between them - they deserved to know. 

Steve let his head hang, effectively hiding his face, blinking back tears. “I love you,” he whispered for the third time - convinced, ashamed, honest.


	9. Tony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And fucking finally we're at the endg-- ahem. A happier outcome of the events culminating :D Secrets are revealed and confessions are made and (spoiler alert!) kisses are exchanged.

Tony could finally breathe. That was wonderful and his first instinct was to inhale a huge gulp of air when the pressure of the dented metal disappeared from his trachea. He felt less dizzy immediately, partly probably because of the free flow of oxygen, and partly because his cervical artery wasn’t squeezed anymore either.

Fuck, he’d manage Doombots and Atlanteans in his sleep, but teamed up together they had done a number on him and his poor suit. He’d need to improve the impact absorbents in the next one…

His thoughts halted as he realized what his easier breathing meant.

Neck panels pulled back meant his helmet was removed. His helmet removed meant that his face was fully visible. He wasn’t in the privacy of the workshop or his penthouse; he was out in the open, in the middle of a scattered and ruined street of New York with Steve and Loki.

Tony swallowed, the whole thought process done in the fraction of a second, and he lifted his gaze to meet Steve’s, but Steve didn’t look at him. See, that’s what made Steve so  _ special _ _,_ he always, always tried so hard to do the right thing, to respect others, to… but Tony recognized when it was over. He couldn’t hide anymore. “It’s okay, winghead.”

He appreciated that Steve tried, but it was useless. 

And he appreciated the concern as well. Loki saved him in more way than one this day - he took hits for Tony, he looked out for all the enemies, he kept them at bay, he…

That was the fight part. They were supposed to fight together and look out for each other. Any of the teammates would’ve done the same if given the chance.

And yet it felt different somehow - more meaningful, maybe. Loki wasn’t a good team player. Loki rarely looked out for his teammates, if ever. Tony would never have thought Loki would take a hit for any of his teammates.

It left warmth in his aching chest. (His wounds and his ARC-reactor hurt like a bitch, but that was part of being an Avenger.)

But even after that, by how hard he had been breathing, Tony would have likely passed out soon in his suit without the Asgardian’s interruption and decision to reveal him.

That was another kind of saving, one that Tony was less grateful for. 

He was apologizing, almost on instinct. At this moment, passing out or even dying was preferable to facing Steve and Loki. Tony gulped audibly as he watched the  _ shock _ on his friend’s face. Loki, on the other hand, didn’t seem surprised at all. Not to mention he knew how to strip Tony of his suit, which would probably disturb Tony a lot more later, but right now his brain was too occupied with other worries.

And then…

Steve.

Said.

That.

At first Tony was simply shocked, mute and motionless, eyes wide and body frozen, and he couldn’t process it. He misheard, right? Steve was with Bucky, he wouldn’t confess to anyone else, right? But… no.

His thoughts rebooted.

Steve had said earlier that he loved Iron Man.

He now confessed to Iron Man.

Only… it was Tony. It had always been Tony, and now Steve saw Tony’s face and  _ whattheactualhellwashappening. _ Loki smirked, but Tony saw that only from the corner of his eyes because he was transfixed on Steve’s lips,  _ he loves both of us, _ and couldn’t, couldn’t, couldn’t.

What did that even mean? Did that mean… Tony and Loki? Iron Man and Loki? Bucky and Tony? Tony and Iron Man? Bucky and Loki? All? None? Why would it mean none? Why would it mean  _ anything? _

Tony blinked.

_Steve was taken,_ he reminded himself.

He inhaled. He didn’t notice when he had stopped breathing, but his body full of hurts was grateful for the oxygen.

The pointless, circling repetition restarted in his head despite the reminder.

Steve  _ loved  _ him.

_ Holyfucking… _

Steve loved  _ him. _

_ Whatteactual... _

Steve said it to Tony’s  _ face. _

Steve didn’t say it to Iron Man. Steve…

Tony’s heart was beating so hard for a moment he worried his ARC-reactor would shut down by the pressure. That was impossible of course, but for a moment, it felt like a real fucking option.

But why would Steve say something like that? Why would he… not even saying. Why would he  _ feel _ something like that? What was in Tony  _ to love? _ He was just a rich asshole. A warmongering playboy. Someone born with a golden spoon in his mouth who didn’t have to fight for anything.

_ (Ha-ha-fucking-ha.) _

That was how the world saw Tony Stark. That’s how  _ Steve _ was supposed to see Tony Stark as well.

Tony wanted to run, he needed to get out, and he flexed his arm to power up the gauntlets and flee, but there were no gauntlets on his hands, the suit disassembled thanks to Loki. Tony swallowed, and the pleased warmth from before melted into something colder. Panic. This was definitely panic. Steve couldn’t possibly  _ mean _ that. It must’ve been something else, must… Tony misunderstood. There was no way that Steve wouldn’t feel betrayed and repulsed by discovering his secret identity.

Logically he knew that it was just mere seconds since his face was revealed, but Tony felt like it had been ages, centuries. Like he should be done and dead and buried and rotten already; like the time should’ve erased even his memory; that’s how long it felt. The synapses in his brain fired like crazy. Tony knew the numbers. He knew that each neuron could be connected up to ten thousand other neurons so there could be a thousand trillion synaptic connections in a brain, which was estimated to be as fast as a one trillion bits per second processor in a computer; he knew that a neuron could fire five to fifty times per  _ second. _ He knew that a brain worked  _ fast. _

He even knew that  _ his _ brain somehow usually worked  _ much faster _ than other peoples’.

And yet it seemed impossible that it was only  _ seconds _ that his world turned upside down.

Steve’s hand squeezed his shoulder, the one that hurt less. “Tony?”

He couldn’t answer. There was no way, it was crazy, it…

Loki’s hand was on his chin now. The grip firm and unrelenting - Tony could feel the bones under the flesh, and somehow it reminded him that Loki was  _ alien, _ hard and tough and different, and yet Loki  _ decided _ to stay with them. That was important.

Loki  _ decided. _

To stay.

To help.

To fight.

To save Tony today.

To take a hit that injured even Loki, so it likely would’ve been lethal to Tony.

And now Loki was above him, fully over him and leaning down, blue eyes huge and  _ uncertain. _

Tony couldn’t remember a time when he had seen the Asgardian uncertain before.

Loki bent down and pressed his lips to Tony’s. He tasted of blood and chill, and Tony shivered, lips parting to let the other’s tongue in, the sensations overwhelming in the best way. Loki didn’t hurry, and only pulled away when someone started to make whale noises above them. Genius or not, it took a moment for Tony to process that it was Steve.

And then, to his shock, Loki pulled away, and grabbed Steve’s jaw the same way he had Tony’s, and kissed Steve as well. Kissed with confidence, kissed as someone who knew how to do it.

Oh. When Tony saw them in the guest room earlier - it wasn’t Steve catching Loki with someone else, it wasn’t even Loki approaching Steve with an unwanted move. It was  _ them. _

Tony watched the scene unfolding in front of his eyes, dumbfounded. 

It didn’t sting, quite the opposite. Tony’s chest swelled with joy and delight upon the sight, and the beauty of it: the two most beautiful people he had ever seen kissing in front of him; their passion evident even through the surprise. Steve kissed back, seemingly on instinct. While Tony had allowed Loki to guide the interaction and do as he pleased with just reacting to everything, Steve couldn’t. Steve moved in and met Loki halfway, and by the movements of their jaws, they were pretty engaged in the tongue department.

Then Loki pulled back, and Steve went after him an inch or so before he got himself under control enough to stop. Tony could fully understand him - if every movement didn’t hurt, Tony would probably sit up to chase after Loki’s mouth and get a taste of it again too.

But… what about Bucky?

What about…?

_ SHIT. _

It clicked.

Bucky’s and Steve’s lovesick expression and longing gazes weren’t because they were in love.

It was just the direct result of their long separation.

_ HOLY SHIT. _

Steve and Bucky never being indecent in public? They probably weren't behind closed doors either.

Steve and Bucky sharing an apartment? Again, the result of their long separation, and part of Bucky’s recovery.

Bucky’s and Steve’s conversation about Steve’s crushes wasn’t a couple discussion. It was friends talking about one’s interests.

_ HOLY FUCKING SHIT. _

And Bucky wouldn’t mind Steve going after someone else, because Bucky never considered himself as someone who had dibs on Steve.

Bucky was encouraging Tony to try his lack with Steve, as a good wingman and best friend would with his friend’s crush.

They weren’t cheating on each other. There was no cheating. There was no open relationship either.

They weren’t together.

Could it be that they  _ never  _ were together?

When Tony talked about Steve being taken, Bucky didn’t think of himself as the partner, he thought of… he thought of Loki?

Speaking of...

Loki smirked at the two of them like a cat that got the cream. “Whether this was my only chance or not, I’d rather not waste it,” he said, and his tongue darted out to lick his lower lip. Tony’s mouth went dry as the Sahara at the mere sight, and he didn’t care about his aches anymore, not when the challenge was clear and loud in Loki’s words, almost as much as his desperation. 

Tony and Steve exchanged a look, mute understanding in their gaze that didn’t need words.

Steve leaned forward, but this time Tony was faster and pulled Loki down, his palm finding the curve of Loki’s sharp jawline and guiding the other man’s mouth to his. The kiss was different this time - it had a certain haste and urgency that was lacking in the first, and Tony could taste Steve on Loki’s lips, somehow making the kiss less  _ alien _ \- or maybe it was just the fact that it wasn’t the first time? Tony wasn’t sure. But it was -  _ wonderful. _

He let go of Loki only when he needed to breathe, and he opened his eyes (when did he close them?) only to see Steve diving in, and turning Loki’s head and starting another kiss. And Steve did this the way he did everything, intense and with expertise, thorough and meticulous. Tony could imagine Steve discovering Loki’s mouth with his tongue and -  _ oh. _ and Steve was letting go of Loki and leaning down and  _ he was kissing Tony. _

And  _ yes, _ he definitely took the time to move his tongue in Tony’s mouth, to slip it around and feel and taste everything, and Tony allowed it more than happily. 

Steve definitely wouldn’t do any of this if he were taken.

But Tony needed… he couldn’t just accept it. He needed proof. He needed reassurance. He pulled back. “What about Bucky?” he asked in a hoarse whisper, and Steve stared at him in total confusion.

“Bucky? What about him?”

Loki groaned. “Idhunn’s apples, mortal, Barnes is not involved with Rogers,” he answered.

Steve blinked, looked from one to the other, and finally nodded. Before Tony could react, Steve dove back to his mouth.

Tony’s shock was melting away, because as incredible as it was, it felt  _ right, _ kissing and being kissed, the taste of Steve and Loki mixing in his mouth and on the tip of his tongue as he licked Steve’s lips, and all three of them were close and breathing in each others’ exhaled air, sharing kisses back and forth, taking turns lazily while the world disappeared around them.

Not even their wounds mattered, the ache dull and forgotten in the back of his mind, not even the rubble and the fallen enemies around, not anything.

Tony didn’t have it in him to care about anything else but this. In these blessed moments when his mind reeled, he was too far gone to list the reasons why it  _ wouldn’t work, _ why it was  _ impossible _ and  _ wrong, _ and he could just allow himself to enjoy, to indulge himself in this fantasy, in this dream coming true. He had no idea how long it would last, but Tony  _ wanted, _ deeply and desperately wanted, craved their touches and their kisses and everything they would offer, everything the three of them could be - it was  _ wrong, _ so wrong, but also the most  _ right _ thing in the world, puzzle pieces falling into place and settling in a beautiful pattern.

Tony couldn’t choose, couldn’t settle for only one, but Loki had challenged them with that remark and neither Tony nor Steve had ever backed down from a challenge and it  _ worked, _ in this moment it worked.

And Tony allowed himself to not think about the future for a few minutes.

*

Someone cleared his throat next to them.

“Uh, hello,” Bucky said. “Listen, I really don’t want to interrupt anything, but can you  _ please _ continue this in the Tower? You know, like reasonable people who don’t want to scar the American youth for life?” Despite his words, Bucky didn’t sound upset at all, if anything, his words were cheerful. Tony squinted at him through a small gap between Loki’s and Steve’s heads as Steve pulled back like a kid caught doing something bad. Loki, on the other hand, gave a scathing look that would have probably made anyone else back away. 

Instead, Bucky grinned wider. “I’m just saying, medical is waiting for you, the battle is long over and the press will be here soon. I guess Tony should put his mask back on before they see him in the armor,” he suggested entirely nonchalant about the revelation too, and Tony squinted harder. He was so going to have a long and angry conversation with Bucky for not telling him that he wasn’t together with Steve. But right now, there was something even more important.

“Did  _ everyone _ know?!” he complained.

“Oh yeah.” Widow appeared from behind Bucky, shrugging, and a little distracted with adjusting her bites on her left wrist. “Did you  _ really _ think you fooled us? Come on, you’re smarter than that.”

“The whole bodyguard story was a bit stinky from the beginning,” Hawkeye commented, and grunted. “Anyway, we’re heading back with Thor. He said Loki better be there in five minutes if he doesn’t want a brotherly fight on top of this one.”

“Uh,” Steve sheepishly put his hand up, “I didn’t know, if that makes it any better.”

Tony groaned. 

“Yeah, let’s get back to the Tower,” he agreed, instead of commenting on anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You've probably noticed that the chapter number went up from 10 to 11. That's because I decided to add a bonus epilogue to the fic. You can take a guess whose POV it will be... :)


	10. Loki

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter of the fic, aka: things get discussed, footings found, and they even have a chance for sexy times.
> 
> Happy holidays y'all! :)

The way back to the Tower was agonizing. First and foremost painful - as the excitement wore off, both Loki and Tony became more and more aware of their injuries. And while Stark reacted by closing off himself and turning inward, that was not Loki’s style. If he was suffering, then so should everyone else - especially since it lifted his spirit. By the time of their arrival at the Tower, Loki had been threatened with bodily harm seven times, with being kicked out of the team twice, and when it was Barton’s turn, once with ending up closed into a smelly loo for fourteen hours. It made Loki smile, despite the blood still dripping from his wounds.

No one’s mood was improved by the fact that Iron Man (helmet on again) needed professional medical attention. Rogers got picked to accompany Stark, much to Loki’s annoyance, but then he didn’t have much time to grumble as he had to fend off the Midgardian healers from his own back.

And then came recovery.

It took approximately two days for Loki to completely heal, but Midgardians weren’t that lucky, and Stark was prescribed bed rest for a whole week for starters, his right arm fastened to his side to give healing time to his injured shoulder muscles.

And when Stark wasn’t free to move, all his spectacular energy was invested in driving himself into a nervous breakdown, and as fun as that could have been with the others providing company, Loki couldn’t decide which he wanted more, to help or to kill the mortal a little more.

Tony was practically vibrating with anxiety on day two, and even with all his mental defenses high up, Loki couldn’t fully shut it out of his own system. They couldn’t even use all that fuel to turn it into pleasure. How annoying indeed.

*

By day three, Loki had enough. He threw his book, that he had pretended to read, on the table with a loud bang, getting the good Captain’s attention, who had been nearby sketching in his notebook until that point, and Stark’s, who had been biting his nails on his free left hand while rambling to the voice-to-text application of his phone about the latest Stark Resilience projects.

Which was a nice cover for his thoughts. Just not very effective, given that while Stark’s mouth ran off about the information security measures of the intranet, his mind was all but blown up with questions and worries.

“I’ve had enough,” Loki growled, frustrated, and twisted a chair around to throw himself down into it, arms resting on the back, knees spread wide. That meant the backrest would block any view of a possible boner. “No, Rogers won’t be mad if you hold his hand. By the Norns, just… I’ve never thought I’d say this, but by Freya, just ask us your questions.” He dragged his palm over his face, then ran his fingers through his hair. Mortals without proper mental defenses were sometimes a handful. Other times, like now, they were insufferable.

Rogers coughed at Loki’s words, and even Stark seemed like he swallowed his own tongue. Loki twisted his spine so he could point an accusatory finger on the Captain.

“Actually, both of you. If I have to hear another one of your mental ramblings about wanting to kiss us, I swear I won’t be so considerate of your  _ reputation _ and I’ll fuck you right then and there.”

Rogers blushed so red he looked even more like Johnny Storm on fire, a resemblance both of the mortals were often teased for.

“How do you even--?” Rogers started, strangled.

Loki rolled his eyes.

“I am a god, you imbecile. Please, either talk it out or shut your thoughts, otherwise I will not be held responsible for my actions.”

“I’ll shut my thoughts when I’m dead,” Stark retorted, finding his voice, “until then, you either have to deal with them, or you can leave. I don’t plan to die in the near future, just so you know.”

“Get out of our heads, Loki,” Rogers more sighed than ordered. “It’s not our fault you’re in there. Otherwise, I agree with Tony.”

Loki suppressed a smirk at the quip. “That leaves you two with no other option than to talk.”

They stared at each other. And stared. And stared.

None of the mortals spoke up, but their thoughts ran amok and Loki didn’t try to listen, but it was impossible  _ not to _ when they were this obvious and loud.

Loki flashed a smile on them, not the kind type. “Want me to dub it for you to start?”

Both men groaned in unison.

“Don’t you think I won’t,” Loki threatened.

“You play dirty,” Tony sulked, but then took a deep breath. “_Fine. _Alright. I was, uhm, thinking about… like okay, so, boundaries, you know, I love boundaries, love to respect them. I’m totally cool with that, would never overstep, you know, not like in the past, heh, that would be crazy if I ever did that, Pepper could talk, right? Yeah. So like kisses, I know we’ve kissed a lot out there, but that was more like the heat of the moment, so it’s great that we keep kissing even in here as well, but you know, always do it when we’re alone, and it’s kinda makes me wonder if it’s okay? I mean kissing in public, for you, when we’re not like high on adrenaline, because Steve stops immediately if we’re not alone and Loki you’ve been freaking out when I asked for a goodnight kiss last evening, which was technically morning by the way. I. Am. Not. Old. Before you even try to imply that. So what about uh… fuck, I forgot. I wanted to get somewhere with this, but I’m not sure anymore,” Tony spat out, not in one breath, but definitely in a fascinating gabble.

“See, it wasn’t that hard,” Loki sighed mockingly, pleased with the first try on one end. It wasn’t bad for starters. Now he only had to make Rogers open his mouth…

Which Steve did, and then he closed it immediately afterwards. Loki watched, curiously, and did his best to not focus on the gorgeous red lips instead of the words that were about to come.

“I,” Steve started, stopped, started again. “Kissing’s fine. I love. Kissing, that is. I don’t mind other people. But uh. How would this work? Around others?” The blush that almost disappeared from his face returned with double the force, and Steve ran his hands through his hair. “Damn. I don’t know how this works. This… relationships. What are we even? We’re not even a couple. Is that okay? How would we...? Would it be weird if I kissed you right now? And who am I kissing first? Will you break up with me if I kiss one of you and not the other? Is it rude? Are we even together?!”

Loki had more dignity than to drop his forehead on the backrest of the chair, but he felt really tempted. Tony stared at Rogers.

“For fuck’s sake, winghead. An hour or so ago you gave me a french kiss so deep that it would count as a larynx examination. What gave you the impression that we’re  _ not _ together?”

Loki snickered, and both pairs of eyes turned to him. He kept smirking. “Midgardians and the limitation of their minds and social norms,” he commented offhandedly, ignoring the scowls he received as an answer. “Why would relationships be reduced to one partner, and why wouldn’t a triad be treated as a pair if everything else but the numbers added up to the same?” He shook his head, and sat back slightly. “In Asgard, and honestly, in most of the Nine Realms, it’s the dedication to one another that is looked at, not the numbers.”

Rogers frowned. “I try not to be judgemental, but that sounds off. So cheating is just accepted like that, because they want to be together?”

“I don’t think that’s what Loki meant,” Tony defended.

Loki knew that his expression closed off immediately. “I was talking about open and consensual relationships, Rogers. I am sure even your primitive planet can understand those concepts.”

“Go easy on him, Rock of Ages,” Stark interfered again, and the nickname from the past was enough to make Loki actually pause. “It’s complicated to accept this line-up of ours even to me, and our dearest leader came from a very different and more close-minded era.”

“Believe me, I know,” Loki said, not even trying to hide his sarcasm.

“Get out of our heads,” Rogers repeated, still not commanding enough to be counted as the Captain’s voice. “So it’s… okay? With… with you?”

There was a bit of silence, and Steve continued before any of them could actually gather their thoughts.

“I mean, I feel guilty for not being able to love only one of you. I feel like you’d deserve someone solely for you. You’re both too amazing to make do with less. To have someone who could totally focus on you. I… I refused Loki’s offer and didn’t have the courage to try anything with Iron Man because of this. And I’m…” He took a fortifying breath. “I don’t want to give you any less than what you deserve.”

“Yeah, you love us,” Loki grinned, and this time he was sure the mischief shone in his eyes with the tease. 

Tony’s smile softened at the reminder, while Steve straightened his shoulders and held his chin up high to meet the challenge. “Yes, because I love you,” he confirmed, this time unfaltering and definitive.

Loki slowly nodded. “Then, we should try to figure out the rest.”

There was another silence, more thoughtful this time. “But… but you have each other,” Tony motioned with his uninjured hand between Steve and Loki. “Why would you bother with me?”

“I could ask the same of you,” Steve pointed out. “I mean, you’re a genius and a god, while I what am I? Like, a lab rat.”

“No way!” Tony argued immediately. “Steve, I didn’t mean that, back in the beginning, it was the scepter talking. You’re a supersoldier, the pinnacle of human perfection, and the leader of the Avengers, and--”

“Yeah but you’re Tony Stark! I mean,  _ the _ Tony Stark, leader of scientific innovation, genius, billionaire, businessman, and you’re also Iron Man, the Golden Avenger, and--”

“Yeah, but you’re a great friend and a--”

“Ahem,” Loki interrupted by clearing his throat. “Look at you, you’re made for each other. You’ve been arguing like a married couple for months now anyway.”

Two pairs of eyes settled on Loki, and if he weren’t a prince, he might’ve squirmed under the intensity of the scrutiny, the moment of silence before the mortals both erupted in protest.

“The fucking Asgardian who always mocks humans now have self-image issues? I can’t believe--”

“Are you kidding me, you literally were considered a God--”

“Excuse me, I still am!” Loki interjected, completely ignored.

“--and have you looked into a mirror, like, holy smokes you’re hot--”

“--you’ve saved Tony and you wouldn’t have to, but you decided--”

“--and you’re smart, don’t you think I didn’t notice that--”

“I don’t care if it seems odd, I’ll fight them if they say anything--”

Loki raised his hand, and waited until both Steve and Tony fell silent. “See my point?”

Steve groaned but stayed silent. 

Tony rolled his eyes. “Just kiss me instead, asshole.”

Loki knew that this was a horrible idea. Midgardians were not meant to be loved by Aesir. Their fleeting life would just wane in front of his eyes, too quick to be worth the heartbreak. But there was no escape for him now. He had no idea how to stop love. He  _ knew _ these ridiculously amazing and amazingly ridiculous, annoyingly wonderful and wonderfully annoying people. He  _ knew _ them, inside and out - tasted their flesh and experienced their essence. And he couldn’t resist them.

So instead of arguing, like he usually did, Loki got up and obeyed.

*

Thor couldn’t stop himself from commenting, of course. He was supportive - of course he was, that stupid buffoon - but that didn’t change the fact that he was amused by the situation, and never missed an opportunity to mess with Loki. Which was fine. Loki could even appreciate a good brotherly teasing.

What was even worse though, was when he tried to turn the conversation more serious. “I’m glad you’ve found them, brother,” Thor said, and Loki rolled his eyes so hard that he worried he might’ve strained a muscle or something. If he ever strained a muscle.

“Ugh, don’t get sappy on me,” he said, and ducked out from under Thor’s arm over his shoulders. “I might throw up if you keep this up.”

Loki really hoped that the Foster woman was coming back soon from her science trip to the South Pole because that would at least divert Thor’s attention away from Loki.

*

There was no sex until Tony was healed. Rogers was very adamant about that - they started to figure out the rules of their threesome, and the first and foremost thing was equality with each other. (“Off the field, at least,” Rogers added hastily, “I’ll still be Captain on the field.” Loki scowled, but Tony winked, “oh I could see you being a Captain in the bedroom, too.”) So no sex for one meant no sex for any of them.

But finally all of Stark’s bandages were off and he was cleared even for fieldwork, and if he was cleared to be punched around in a metal suit by healers, that meant he was healthy enough for pleasure as well.

Stark linked his arms through theirs with an innocent smile and started to lead them to his workshop. “Anyway, I prepared some surprises for you two. I’ve heard you had fun while I wasn’t really involved in this thing…”

Rogers blushed, of course. That Midgardian blushed so easily it was hilarious to Loki. He counted himself lucky to be free of such a burden: his skin never betrayed his emotional state like that. 

His partners promised to be interesting in many ways.

Stark made sure to prove that as soon as he was allowed by their  _ boyfriend _ (what a silly Midgardian word). As soon as Loki and Steve set foot in the workshop, Tony pulled them into a kiss. It was true that by height Tony was the smallest among them, but he didn’t lack a commanding presence and determination when he wanted to. It should’ve been comical, like a tiny cat herding big dogs, but Loki had seen enough cat videos on the internet to know that cats were more than capable to force their wills onto even bears if they wanted to. It was all about confidence and charisma - and Stark didn’t lack either of those things.

So Loki wasn’t surprised that within mere seconds, Tony was sandwiched in the middle of their trio, kissing and being kissed. Loki was in front of him, devouring Stark’s lips, while Steve pressed up from behind, mouthing at the neck of the man. Three pairs of hands were all over the place, sneaking under clothes, fingertips caressing and nails scratching skin at equal measure.

Loki loved the chaos of it that was also strangely orderly, led by millenia-old instincts, human bodies reacting to stimuli that had been pleasurable even before Loki’s life started on an icy world.

“Is… this… okay?” Steve asked, each word punctuated by another tiny bite into Tony’s soft flesh, only for Loki to slide down to Tony’s neck as well, following the curve of it until his nose brushed to Steve’s, and they kissed over Stark’s shoulder for a minute, before returning their attention to the original task at hand.

“Of course it is,” Tony managed to groan in the brief pause.

He was definitely enjoying their ministrations, based on the moans he made, and the very palpable tent in his pants, betraying his erection. Loki held himself back from rubbing up against it. That would’ve been undignified for a god like him. He wasn’t an animal in rut, after all.

“Good,” Rogers murmured.

“I have something else for you,” Tony said, breathless.

Something cold touched the back of Loki’s neck.

He couldn’t turn around - Stark’s hands were on his face. He kissed Loki, and his grip tightened to keep that contact.

Loki decided that Tony’s kiss was worth the risk of not reacting to whatever was behind his back. He enjoyed the taste of it with closed eyes, while he also felt the thing behind gently caressing his skin. He only peeked out from under half-closed lids when he heard Rogers’ gasp.

Steve was staring at the something behind Loki, but there was no fear in his expression, only reverent awe, and finally Loki gathered enough of his senses to get a full reading on the room without turning back.

The cool sensation of the touch immediately made sense.

Behind Loki, there was an Iron Man armor, the eyelets glowing, but no weapons powered up.

Loki bent over to bite Tony’s neck, with a bit more force this time, and as a reaction, the armor’s fingers tightened on his nape. Loki smirked - instead of pulling away, he pressed into the hold. “Really, Stark?” he asked, smile audible in his voice. He pulled away and kissed Steve as well again, dividing his attention between the two Midgardians and the armor behind. “This is your surprise for us?”

“Well,” Tony said. His voice was hoarse already. “Steve mentioned something about you two having a bit of fun without inviting me for real.”

Loki shot a disapproving glance to Rogers. The stupid mortal jeopardized this arrangement by admitting that to Stark. Of course, it was no wonder that the epitome of Midgardian values wanted to be entirely honest with Stark, and if he was honest with himself, Loki could agree with that full disclosure. In theory. It didn’t mean that he appreciated it in practice, or that he had to advertise his appreciation, though.

Steve shrugged, stopping the everlasting patrol that his lips started on Stark’s skin since they had entered the workshop.

“And how is that an explanation, Stark?” Loki asked between one kiss from Steve and one from Tony. It was good that Stark was shorter than them, he decided.

Tony’s hand found Loki’s crotch while answering, “really, Loki? In  _ armor? _ Can you even imagine how uncomfortable that would be in reality?”

Stark’s other hand must’ve done something, then, because Steve let out a breathy, blissed out yelp that morphed into a long-drawn moan. The armor’s hands cupped Loki’s ass.

“I can, in fact,” Loki said, but his own voice sounded out of breath, too. Stark’s lazy caresses through the fabric of his pants combined with the strong grip of the metal palms shot excitement through his nerves.

Tony wriggled in their embrace and somehow managed to turn completely around among their arms, with his back to Loki instead of his front. He gave a long, deep kiss to Steve, and Loki’s mouth watered just watching them. “No, you can’t,” Tony argued when he was done. “But I can. So we do this my way, not yours.”

Before Loki could answer, a metal palm slipped in front of his mouth. Loki licked it; he wasn’t sure if out of annoyance or lust. 

“We worked with what we had,” Rogers said, the smug little bastard. He even winked at Loki, before closing his eyes again, his neck under a constant onslaught of small lovebites from Stark.

“Now you have the real deal, full package. You’re welcome,” Tony said.

And actually they were. They really, really were, and not above showing it.

Luckily for them, the workshop couch had gotten upgraded to an expandable version that was big enough to fit all of them, a true blessing when it came to this arrangement. Losing their clothes was only a matter of a second when Loki was present with handy little spells like that, and Stark… well, Stark was what mortals referred to a power bottom, right? He sure had ideas and knew how to voice them.

Loki grinned as soon as he heard them, and Rogers seemed like he got hit in the head with something hard and heavy while under the influence of drugs, but agreed just as eagerly. After a few back and forth and established rules, they were ready to go. Loki didn’t mind playing the bad guy in the scenario, he mused to himself, as he took his position, Stark in his embrace commanding the beginning of a scene that promised to be full of pleasure.

The armor, under Stark’s command, picked up Rogers like the supersoldier weighed nothing, and tossed the man on the couch. The furniture swayed and croaked and slid on the floor a few feet, but Stark was a man of calculations, so that was all it did. In the next moment, before Rogers could clumsily get to his feet, the suit was on top of him, pinning him down.

Loki’s hold tightened around Tony’s waist as he watched the Captain struggle, delicious muscles in plain sight flexing with effort. Stark had built his suits to withhold greater strength than any mortal, even Rogers, could demonstrate, though Loki wasn’t sure if part of the struggle was light-minded only for the show, or real effort. With both hands held down above his head and an armor kneeling on his thigh and stomach, Rogers couldn’t do much.

Stark rubbed his ass against Loki’s crotch. “He’s so beautiful.”

Loki wasn’t sure what to answer to such open admiration, so instead, he reluctantly let go of Tony. “The stage is yours,” he whispered to Stark’s ear, his voice arranged to sound like molten gold, caressing inside and out, breath ghosting on the sensitive skin of the ear. Loki knew as well as Stark how to rile someone up, and Tony almost stumbled upon his own feet, Loki’s quiet laugh following the clumsy movement. Even from this distance, Loki could almost feel the heat radiating from his lovers’ faces, their bodies stung up and aroused, dicks hard enough to hammer nails with. And he loved it. He loved how easily this seemed to work, how openly these mortals showed their affection and lust, now that they felt they were allowed to do so. He loved that they were so quick to leap through their societal norms and accept themselves - each other - and even Loki - in this seemingly unusual arrangement; and he loved how fierce their love and desire were.

Loki loved them, and loved watching them - he wondered that one day maybe he’ll switch roles with the Captain in a similar scene, but not today. Today Stark rushed to Steve and fumbled with freeing him from the ‘rogue’ armor; barely containing his laughter, only the curve of his mouth betraying how much fun he had.

Loki gave them half a minute to play it out, to have their enjoyment with the thrill of safely exploring this helplessness on the Captain’s part, while he simply watched; arms crossed and hugging his chest to not betray his own arousal and enthusiasm, to not stroke himself at the mere sight.

Then he moved, faster than mortals could, and appeared behind Tony, reaching past the man’s torso from behind and grabbing both wrists in his hands.

“Well, well, well, what have I found,” he purred to Tony’s ear, and Steve’s back arched up as he tried to free himself - maybe for real this time, it was hard to tell, but the armor didn’t budge and didn’t let go. Tony didn’t even pretend to put up a fight - as soon as he had heard the voice, he sagged into the embrace, melting into the touch. Loki took both wrists in one hand so he could caress the back of Tony’s neck, and Tony shivered. “It seems like the Captain has his own problem and can’t help you, Stark.”

“I can take care of myself,” Tony quipped back, remembering that he should struggle as well, but it still was only vocal - his body remained comfortably loose, no sign of real discomfort, back pressed to Loki’s chest as Loki bent himself forward a bit. His hand slipped forward, caressing Tony’s bare chest. Steve stopped struggling, eyes glued to the fingers, and Loki decided to put up a little show, as he started to pinch Tony’s nipples.

The dear Captain’s eyes were dark and huge as saucers; a vein throbbed on his neck. Loki didn’t look down to check on his erection, he didn't need to. All three of them were so aroused that it filled not only the air of the workshop, but probably the whole Tower.

“But I can take care of you better,” Loki countered, after a few seconds passed in silence that only their ragged breaths broke. His eyes sneaked south. “Such good care.”

Steve wanted to say something, it was clear, but they agreed that he wouldn’t speak unless he needed a stop or slowing down, so he closed his mouth without a word. He even allowed himself a tiny nod, one that Loki was sure only he saw, because Tony’s head lolled back to Loki’s shoulder as he finally got ahold of Stark’s dick.

A few experimental tugs, and Loki discovered a few things.

One, even having shapeshifted sex in someone’s form wouldn’t fully prepare him to have sex with that someone on the other end of the equation. Of course, that wasn’t exactly new, but it was nice to have confirmed.

Two, Stark missed the foreskin around the head of his cock, and Loki had enough tact to not ask about it now, but he filed it away for later to ask what events would lead to such a thing.

Three, Tony Stark was not holding back his voice during sex. He sighed and moaned, enjoying every sensation openly and without shame, such a contrast to Rogers who got quiet when enjoying himself.

Loki couldn’t hold back from rubbing his dick on the ass so heatedly presenting to him. “I’ll let you go now,” he said to Tony, loud enough so Steve could hear it too. “Both you and the dear Captain better be good for me now. You’re trespassing here, I deserve compensation for that,” he went on, according to the agreed-upon story of this little scene.

Rogers flexed his muscles, of course. His dick bounced a bit with it. Loki’s eyes followed that tiny movement, before flashing up to meet Steve’s gaze. “What does being good mean?” Tony asked, for both of them.

Loki smirked, one of his trademark grins, and cupped Tony’s balls in his hand. “The dear Captain stays put, and doesn’t look away,” he commanded. “If he keeps those two rules, he’ll be rewarded. And you, mortal genius…” he played with Stark’s balls, eliciting even more heated moans, “you should’ve guessed by now, I’ll have my way with you first.” Loki rested his chin on Tony’s shoulder. “I’m going to fuck you, Stark, and Rogers will watch,” he clarified, still smiling. “Any objections?” 

Steve remained silent, not showing that he wanted to put a halt on the scene, even though his dick started to seem almost purple with need, and Tony just moaned and shivered in Loki’s hold, under the onslaught of pleasure because Loki didn’t stop to play with him.

Loki didn’t need more. He led Stark forward, until his knees hit the edge of the couch, and bent his lover forward, making sure that Stark’s stomach was comfortable on the armrest, and that if he lifted his head, he could meet Roger’s eyes. Those dark, hungry eyes that Loki watched with a smirk as he conjured lube on his finger and started to push it inside Tony, slow and careful, while his other hand held Stark’s hip, his thumb caressing the skin.

The noises coming out from Tony were glorious, and even Steve started panting as he watched.

Loki was in no hurry.

This was even better than he had imagined - he knew both men had the desire in them to submit for someone strong enough to get it from them, but he never imagined to be accepted into that role immediately and without question. He never thought that they’d see him as worthy for this power over them. 

After his second finger slipped in, and Stark was barely able to do anything but moan, Loki leaned forward to whisper in his ear again.

“Can you reach our dear Captain?”

Tony turned his head and blinked up at him lazily, lips curling into a smile. “Gladly.”

“Then do it, give him something to enjoy,” Loki commanded, hand never stopping, fingers scissoring with practice, and Tony obeyed.

It probably wasn’t entirely comfortable, with how much he needed to stretch, but he was able to put his palm on Steve’s erection, toying with it with only his fingertips at first.

Rogers swore and tossed his head back.

Loki slid a third finger in, and chuckled darkly when Tony joined in the swearing, but neither of them stopped their ministrations in making the other even more needy. Loki leaned down again and licked and kissed along Tony’s spine, while Tony changed the angle of his wrist so he could slowly drag his hand on Steve’s cock.

When Steve kicked out with a particular movement, the suit on top switched position so it held down his legs as well, and Loki nodded in amusement. Whatever program or AI - or maybe Stark himself - was running the armor, it was smart and adaptable.

He took a deep breath to calm his own rapid heartbeats, but the heavy smell of sex and arousal and precome in the air just made him even more impatient.

He knew that it was temporary - this whole affair, and this play in it as well - that it’d end sooner than his heart can take - but he tried his best not to think of that, not in the middle of pleasure, not while he  _ got this. _ A gift of trust and a gift of love, equally rare and equally precious.

Next time they’d probably change positions, next time maybe Loki would submit to them, or maybe they’d be equals in a scenario - they had more dimension in themselves than to settle in only one kind of dynamic between the three of them - but this was  _ now, _ and this was  _ enough, _ and this was  _ perfect. _

He pulled his hand back, emanating a needy whine from Stark, whose strokes quickened on Rogers, and Loki soothed as gently as he was capable of, putting his hand on the small of Tony’s back and murmuring praises for them. He maybe even put a little more magic in his voice than usual, though he would deny it to the grave. He wasn’t sure they heard or understood him - too lost in lands of pleasure - but the intent was clear to them even in their current states. 

Both of his lovers relaxed marginally. The frantic urge didn’t disappear, but the desperation did, as Loki’s voice promised that it won’t end, and definitely not abruptly, that their needs would be satisfied and they wouldn’t be left alone. Not ever, not as long as Loki was there, and as long as  _ the three of them _ were there.

As with any magic, it was a double-edged sword. Loki felt the effect even on himself, his promise binding with the sweetest, softest bonds. He lined up his cock and slipped into Stark, slow and careful and attentive, more than ever before.

This was real. This was  _ his, _ and  _ only his,  _ he didn’t have to fight for it with anyone, he didn’t have to prove himself anymore, he didn’t have to best someone else or step out of someone’s shadow to have this.

Steve and Tony, they loved him.

And he loved them in return.

He came with that thought in his mind, cock buried deep inside Tony, hand reaching out to be in touch with Steve as it happened, needing to feel both of them in some way, while his hips stilled. He didn’t close his eyes - he watched, in awe, as Tony’s strokes brought Rogers to the very edge almost at the same time, and Steve came as well. He didn’t mutter out any names this time, just gasped: inarticulate, blissed, satisfied.

When the last rolls of pleasure were over him, Loki shakily turned Tony around. It didn’t make much, just a few licks and kisses and sucks, for the third of them to come as well. Tony was  _ so _ beautiful when it happened - even more beautiful than usual. The ever-present wrinkles on his forehead smoothed out, the worry in the corner of his eyes disappeared to be replaced with pleasure only.

One day, Loki thought, they’d play with endurance and edging, but not today. Today was exciting enough as it was. He looked at Stark, wrung out under him, and Rogers, still pinned but watching them with a dopey smile.

“Let him go. Let our Captain go,” he murmured in Tony’s ear.

The armor clumsily rolled to the ground. In an attempt to get itself up, it shot up the repulsors on all four limbs - which wouldn’t have been a problem of itself, if one of those repulsors wasn’t just a bit too strong for the situation, and blasting something out from under the couch with the loudest clanging noise.

“Ooops,” Tony giggled, not even seemingly worried or remorseful for the collateral damage as metal slammed to the wall on the other end of the workshop. Loki was just grateful it wasn’t one of the legs of the couch. The last thing they needed in their mental state, Stark all giddy and Rogers satisfied as a cat that got the cream, was a hard landing on their asses.

Finally, the armor retreated to the corner of the workshop, where the lights of its eyelets and reactor turned off. 

Loki nodded in acknowledgement, then helped Steve to scoot over a bit on the couch, and arranged Stark between Rogers and himself, all of them laying in a comfortable, easy fatigue of the pleasure.

“This was delightful,” Loki commented softly.

Tony raised one hand as if he held up a glass. “Here’s to much more like this,” he yawned.

“Amen,” Steve agreed.

Loki never considered himself sentimental, but he was helpless against his own feelings, so he pressed tiny kisses on both of his lovers, murmuring quiet words to help them rest peaceful and easy. Once their breaths evened out completely, Loki watched their features for a moment more - the serenity of the scene getting the best of him - and then he reached once more for his magic to get soft and warm blankets cover them. He wondered what poor mortals without such tricks did, and how awful it might be to have to walk and gather supplies for them instead of shortcuts like his - before he himself fall asleep too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huhh, guys, look at this! Only an epilogue left to post! Those who guessed it'll be from Bucky POV, guessed right. I hope you enjoyed the ride! :D


	11. Epilogue - Bucky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little wrap-up of the events from our favorite long-suffering sniper :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am a little ashamed to admit how long this epilogue has been sitting in my doc while I completely forgot that I haven't posted it. Only when I opened the fic to answer comments did I realize that I haven't... actually... did that yet. So sorry!

Bucky finally, finally could breathe freely. If he was completely honest with himself, he had given up on these three idiots getting their shit together and asking each other out (a fairly obvious solution for all of their problems, really) a while ago. Maybe it wasn’t that obvious, only for him, who knew all three sides of the coin (was that even a term? all three sides of the triangle?), and also, who wasn’t fucking stupid and did his homework.

He had read up about polyamory and the customs around it right after Steve confessed that he had feelings for more than one person at the same time. Even though it wasn’t exactly true at the time, Bucky got curious. He wanted to know the modern standards, since views had changed so drastically compared to what he was used to. Bucky had gotten fairly familiar with the alphabet soup of the LGBT+ (even though he had to admit that he couldn’t keep up with the whole length of the acronym, he tried to be open-minded to anything and everything), but polyamory as a concept was new to him at the time.

There were a lot of misunderstandings and misinformation, of course. People still tended to be assholes about sticking their noses where they didn’t belong, especially into each others’ panties, but there were _ websites _ and _ studies _ and even published _ books _dedicated to open and/or polyamorous relationships.

Because of that, and because he for a fact was aware that all parties felt similarly to each other, Bucky was highly aware how unnecessary the drama around Steve’s and Tony’s and Loki’s attractions were.

The only problem presented itself on making those _ morons _ also recognize this.

That took fucking _ forever. _

*

Visiting a recovering Tony Stark was a trip. The cat was out of the bag, at least among the teammates and a very limited amount of medical personnel, so Tony finally didn’t have to pretend to be fine while in fact he was injured. Bucky knew a thing or two about hiding injuries, so he was grateful for that ease on his friend.

But being out and about of said injuries meant that Tony finally got the chance to complain about them - and, as prone to dramatics as he was, he naturally felt obliged to make up for all the times when he hadn’t been.

Bucky figured it might also have been an endurance test for the newly found triad, and didn’t envy Steve or Loki the slightest for having to put up with Tony’s antics constantly. In moderate amounts, Stark was great and funny and amazing, but Bucky just wasn’t cut out for extremely high doses of that. Nowadays he got annoyed too quickly, got overwhelmed too easily, and couldn’t stand something as loud and brash as Tony’s acting for long. It didn’t mean that he didn’t love the genius as a friend. He did.

He just tended to pick friends who were a handful. See Steve. And Loki, for that matter. And Tony, of course. And even Hawkeye and Widow, way too often.

Bucky really did know how to pick them, right? The best of the best. And the most annoying of the annoying.

Maybe that thought wasn’t entirely justified, but Bucky was pinching the bridge of his nose and praying for patience currently, so.

“For the last time, Tony, I didn’t _ deceive you,” _ Bucky said, as calm and collected as he could. He kept repeating this sentence.

He knew that Tony wasn’t meaning it, and that Tony wasn’t really hurt - because when Tony was truly hurt, he bottled that shit up like all the other insane Avengers did, Bucky included - but that didn’t stop him from acting like he had been personally betrayed by Jesus Christ and led to Hell instead of the pearly gates of Heaven. Or whatever.

“But you’ve never told me!” Tony whined again, for the umpteenth time.

“How the fuck was I supposed to know you thought we were a couple?”

“Uhm, hello, have you _ seen _ yourself?!” Tony asked, bewildered.

“No, I haven’t had an out of body experience in the last couple of months, thank you,” Bucky answered as dryly as he was able.

Tony scoffed. “Seriously, Barnes. If you say you’re not together, I believe you. But you have to excuse a guy for assuming when you were practically draped all over each other, not to mention the loving gazes and the--”

“Are you jealous?” Bucky cut in, raising a challenging eyebrow. He grew up with Steve ‘fight me’ Rogers, tiny edition. He knew how to handle dramatics.

“What? Nah. Of course not. I am Tony Stark, I’m not jealous. That’s impossible. Should I be jealous?” Tony glanced away, fingers meddling with the edge of the blanket.

Bucky put his flesh hand on Tony’s, palm wrapping around the calloused skin of the engineer, and he waited until Tony finally looked him in the eye. “No, Tony,” he smiled softly. “We’re just from a different era, with different customs. I love Steve like a brother and he likes me back the same way. He’s my family, and I am his, but that has nothing to do with romance or such.” He finished with a serious, definite nod, and Tony relaxed, fingers stopping their everlasting movements. The tension left Tony’s shoulders, and even his jawline.

“Okay. I’ll try my best not to break your boy,” Tony said, aiming for breaking the strangely serene atmosphere that came with Bucky’s words. “Pinky promise.”

Bucky smiled at him. “I’ll take you on your word.”

*

“YOU KNEW ALL ALONG AND YOU NEVER TOLD ME,” Steve shouted, trying to put Bucky in a headlock. “YOU KNEW AND YOU LET ME SUFFER!”

Bucky barely avoided the hold and danced back away from Steve in their kitchen, hands up with palms out. 

“I’m going to…” Steve sucked in his lower lip, trying to come up with a suitable punishment for Bucky’s behavior. “I’m going to make you eat my cooking!” he finally finished.

That was enough for Bucky to grab the pencil case from the dining table and throw it at Steve. Steve caught it, of course. 

“Eat my ass, Rogers, your cooking is terrible,” he said, way too cheerfully compared to the horror he was threatened with.

“That’s the point! You could’ve told me!”

“Hey, get off your high horse, punk.” Bucky decided it was time to stop backing away, and instead he lunged forward, tackling Steve’s hips with his metal shoulder and toppled both of them to the ground. “It’s not like it was my secret to tell!”

“I spent months torn between Tony Stark and Iron Man. _ Months, Buck!” _ To emphasize his point, Steve punched Bucky in the shoulder.

“Fuck you,” Bucky showed back at him, and dug his index finger into Steve’s pecs. “Can you imagine what _ I _ had to endure next to your stupid and unnecessary pining?!”

“You could’ve given me a hint or something!”

“I did! It’s not my fault they all went over your head! I swear to God, Rogers. You’re useless.”

Bucky rolled off of Steve and they were both lying on the floor, grinning like the maniacs they were. They were over one hundred years old, they were young, and Steve apparently had found love. They were happy.

“I am, but you’re still a jerk,” Steve concluded.

“I refuse the accusation,” Bucky said.

“And I don’t care. I am right.”

Bucky shrugged. “Fair enough.” They were silent for a few moments, soaking up the jaunty moment. “Congrats on you three, by the way.”

“Thanks.”

“I’m still not eating your cooking.”

It was Steve’s turn to shrug, and they were laughing again. ”Fair enough.”

*

Okay, maybe he shouldn’t have been that smug with Loki. But it was late at night when they ran into each other in the kitchen, and Loki was preparing food not only for himself, but for two other people as well, and looking at the plates in a neat line on the counter, Bucky had to smile.

He sat up on the counter, close enough that he could dip a finger in the closest dish if he wanted to, and started peeling a tangerine. “It’s nice to be vindicated,” Bucky said.

Loki levelled him with a glare. “Well, as you pathetic beings say, a blind man may perchance hit the mark.”

Bucky burst out laughing. “Did you really just say that to a sharpshooter?”

“Maybe.”

“Well then, you deserve to hear it…”

“Don’t you dare,” Loki tried to interrupt, which Bucky ignored without hesitation.

“I’ve told you so. I told you and I was right.”

Loki was, among other things, mature and dignified, especially when he wasn’t comfortable around someone. But Bucky had managed to become friends with Loki a while ago, so he knew better than to believe such an act, and Loki knew better than to even try to pull that on him at this point. 

So with Bucky, Loki was as mature and dignified as actual four year olds were when they thought they could act upon their impulses. So of course Loki stuck his tongue out at Bucky, an expression he probably saw on the television, and very eloquently said, “Shut up, monkey.”

Bucky laughed.

*

Rhodes slurped his coffee.

Bucky figured the Colonel only did this annoy him and his oversensitive hearing, at least at first, which admittedly worked. Then the habit stuck, and by now Bucky wasn’t annoyed, more like endeared by this little detail of the monthly complaining sessions he had with the more reasonable members of the team. 

Though they always argued about who deserved to be considered _ reasonable enough _ to be allowed to join them (Bucky pointed out that Natasha only pretended and therefore shouldn’t attend, to which Natasha always retorted by mentioning some of the riskier actions Steve dragged Bucky into), but Rhodes was definitely a long-standing member of the club. Along with Pepper, even though she rarely had the chance to join them so it made her presence even more appreciated, and Bruce, who always drank tea instead of coffee, which again resulted in questioning the legitimacy of calling him sane.

But then again, they were superheroes, so their normal was pretty skewed anyway.

It was a nice way of de-stressing, to spend a quiet evening together once in a while, to banter away and complain about their respective idiots and pretend for a few hours that their life wasn’t one pile of crazy on top of another pile of insane.

“I’ve found a goddamn _ rifle _ in my bed,” Bucky huffed, exasperated.

“Oh come on, it’s his way of showing that he’s grateful,” Rhodes rolled his eyes.

“He’s trolling me,” Bucky argued. “Steve letting me choose the film for movie night when it’s his turn, that’s gratitude. Loki leaving me a flask of that Asgardian liquor, that can be called thankfulness, even if he wouldn’t ever admit it out loud, but _ a rifle in my bed? _ Stark has more tact than to do that seriously.”

“You’d think,” Pepper interjected, majestic as usual. She held her pinky away from the coffee cup. Bucky only had seen Peggy holding a cup like that before. “But we’re talking of a man who legitimately thought that giving me a ten feet high plush rabbit was a good christmas present.”

“It is, and you know that,” Natasha said, and Bucky had to smirk in agreement. Honestly, who _ wouldn’t _ appreciate a plush bunny big enough that it could be used as a bed? “And Barnes, at least you get presents, I never get presents for what I do for him.”

“I bet my metal arm that you never had to endure anything in comparison with what I had with these three pining _ idiots, _ all three of them, for months!” Bucky said, and Natasha allowed herself a genuine, dorky smile.

Before she could answer, though, there was a loud bang, followed by a clanging sound; both coming from the direction of Tony’s workshop. 

All five of them froze, listening and holding breaths. No other sound came.

“Should we…?” Bruce whispered after fifteen seconds ticked by in silence.

Bucky leaned back in his seat immediately, straightening his spine from his previous slouch. “I’m not going in,” he stated quickly.

Natasha bit her lips, seemingly torn. “What if they are…?”

“Nah,” Rhodes shook his head. “You know Tony better than that, he’s fine.”

“I mean, there’s three of them,” Bucky reasoned, “at least one of them should be conscious.”

“You’re not helping at all,” Natasha sighed.

Pepper stood up.

“Fine, I’ll check to see if they’re bleeding,” she shrugged. “You are missing out though,” she added with a sly smile, which only widened at the bewildered looks her statement was met with. “Oh come on, I might not be straight, but I am capable of appreciating a nice aesthetic, and just imagine those three, naked and--”

The collective groans stopped her from finishing the sentence. She laughed as she left the room, her heels pitapatting toward the workshop as she went.

Bucky picked up his cup and gulped half of his coffee at once.

His friends were happy, on the right track with their rapidly blooming relationship; and he was among other friends, among people who genuinely cared about each other, him included. 

Life was pretty good again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it, folks! Thank you for joining me in this wild ride, and thanks FortellerBryn for the amazing experience it was to write this polyship. They were stubborn, but ultimately a lot of fun! If you liked this story, check out my others, or feel free to drop by [at my tumblr.](https://menatiera.tumblr.com/) Remember: kind words make my day, water my crops, clean my skin, feed my soul and all that jazz, so leave comments! :)


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